A Convention
by Haru-shira-kun
Summary: Alfred, an otaku, wins a bet and drags his best friend - a reluctant Arthur - to a 3-day convention. They encounter, of course, anime, cosplay, Pocky and fangirls! Little do they know that it will change their relationship status of 'just friends'...
1. The Anticipation

Alfred and Arthur are friends who attend a rather…multicultural high school. Recently they had a bet on whose home country made the better movies. The winner would get the loser to do whatever the winner wanted (within reason, of course). And as expected, Alfred won. To Arthur, it seemed like a small deal, and agreed that what Alfred had suggested was 'within reason'. Arthur didn't ever guess how far such a simple bet could be taken…

-

"I cannot _believe_ you managed to talk me into this," Arthur said, gripping the pole on the bus and leaning his head tiredly against it. He stared at the clouds drifting slowly across the summer afternoon sky. Ugh. Alfred was dragging him to an anime convention that was hours away from either of their houses. _Anime._

During the past few months, Alfred had started talking with a Japanese kid named Kiku in his tech class over their shared love of videogames, which eventually led to his most recent obsession of the strange cartoons. Since then, he hadn't stopped talking about this convention for _months._

Alfred grinned in the seat next to him. "Come on, it's only three days Arty! Besides, you can't say anime is bad, 'cause you've never seen it."

Arthur turned away from his friend. He scoffed. "Like I ever wanted to," he muttered.

"What was that?"

"Never mind. Anyways, why are we coming early again?"

Alfred rolled his eyes. "You know, there's gonna be this huge line and we need to go find a hotel room and well, it's just so awesome that you _have_ to be early!"

Arthur just scowled. "Better be."

-

Arthur perched his elbow on the counter of the hotel reception and leaned his face against it, watching Alfred get them a room. The lady at the desk was obviously flirting with him.

Arthur watched the exchange, yawning. The rather attractive American was constantly being flirted with. "Hey, Alfred," he said indifferently.

Alfred looked up from his conversation. "Yeah?"

"Make sure you get a room with _two_ beds, will you?"

Alfred gave him a funny look and a crooked grin that made Arthur's cheeks flush red. From the heat, he told himself. "You scared of me or something?" Alfred asked.

The Brit gave him a look that told even someone as dense as Alfred to stop inquiring into the matter.

A few minutes later, Alfred walked away from the desk and towards his companion, whistling and twirling two key cards between his fingers. "Don't explode, 'kay?" Alfred said.

"What is it?"

"They're out of rooms with more than one bed."

"…Oh." Arthur pondered this in silence for a while. "Well then, it doesn't matter."

Alfred breathed a sigh of relief. He took a look at the key card. "Room 3417," he said. "Better get going."

After about five minutes of waiting for an elevator in an awkward silence they finally got inside, Arthur having to carry both their suitcases ("I won the bet, you do it."). Alfred looked at the buttons on the wall, finding number 34 and pressing it. The elevator started up slowly and creakily. It took 15 seconds between every floor.

"This is gonna take a while, isn't it," Alfred said, taking a seat on his suitcase.

Arthur preferred to stay silent. His thoughts were elsewhere anyways.

_I can't believe I have to share a bed with_ Alfred. _That guy talks and laughs and moves and does everything imaginable in his sleep. …This is going to be a long weekend…_

"Oi, Arthur," Alfred said, interrupting the Brit's thoughts suddenly.

"Yes?"

Alfred got up and walked past his suitcase towards him. He perched a fist on the wall over his companion's head. "How long have we been best friends?" he asked, a smile playing on his features.

Arthur cocked an eyebrow up. "That's a rather strange question to be asking while standing like that, isn't it?"

The other looked away. "Right."

"Well, anyways, you and I are both seventeen, so I'd say about five years," he replied coolly.

Alfred turned back to face him. "It's already been all this time, huh?"

"Yes, I…I guess it has been. What are you getting at?"

"How would you feel if I said I've been keeping something from you for most of that time?" he continued.

Arthur pondered the thought. "It would…depend what it is, I guess."

"Well then." Alfred backed to the other side of the cramped space. He smiled awkwardly and scratched the back of his head. "Um, I'm gay."

Arthur stared blankly back at him for a few seconds, processing those 2 words. They sank in slowly. _He's gay. My best friend is gay. No wait, is he joking?_ Arthur studied the American who was trying to focus on the ceiling. Something about his face told him otherwise. He debated how to respond to this. A million options flashed through his mind. _"That was a terrible joke." "Come again?" "Want me to carry your suitcase?" "…"_. He opened his mouth to say something, right when the elevator doors opened on the 32nd floor.

A bell boy walked in holding a massive suitcase and a birdcage. He gave them a friendly nod. Arthur shot an apologetic look at Alfred, who shrugged and looked away.

At their floor, they shuffled past the bellboy in a heavy silence. They continued on like this until they got to their room. Alfred opened the door and dashed inside, directly into the bathroom.

Arthur's mind was too busy to take in his surroundings. He left his stuff by the door walked to the bed in a daze, flopping back onto the single bed in the room. _Get yourself together, idiot,_ he thought to himself. _Why should this change anything between us? He's always been there for you and you have to be there for him now._

He swallowed and got up, walking towards the bathroom. He knocked on the door. "Alfred?"

"Yeah, I'm still here."

"You know this doesn't change a thing between us, right?"

At that moment, Alfred opened the door wide and smiled his usual goofy grin. "Of course it doesn't change anything," he said. "Why would it?"

Arthur gave him a you-know-why look.

"I was just kidding." Alfred's gaze softened. He gave his companion a hug. "I love you, man."

The Brit hugged him back. "That's an awkward thing to say, considering the current subject matter," he replied, voice muffled by Alfred's chest.

The other laughed. "Not like that." He released him. "So anyways." He looked around the room. His eyes fell on the bed, and he started to laugh. "There's no way both of us are going to comfortably fit on that," he said.

Arthur followed his gaze. He had been too preoccupied with his thoughts to notice it earlier. It was indeed the smallest hotel-room bed he had ever seen. "Oi," he said simply.

"Whatever, we'll figure it out later," Alfred said, eyes scanning the rest of the room. "Hey look, we have a balcony." He went outside to it, Arthur trailing behind. His eyes scanned the scene below and he whirled around, making Arthur jump.

"The line is already really long!" Alfred shouted. "Come on!"

He grabbed Arthur by the wrist and practically dragged him out of the room and down 34 flights of stairs. ("It's faster than that stupid elevator.") They sprinted across the street and to the end of the lengthy queue forming on the outside of the convention building. The two of them stood there, panting.

Alfred looked at his watch. "2 o'clock." He breathed a sigh of relief. "We're good for time."

The line progressed fairly quickly and they got to the front in less than half an hour. Finally the girl at the desk called them forward. Alfred found his American flag-print wallet and pulled out the required 110 dollars. "Two passes for the whole weekend," he said, smiling at her. She smiled back and handed them their tags.

Alfred handed one to Arthur. "Well then," he said. "We've got another 3 hours to kill."

Arthur stopped and stared at him. "WHAT."

Alfred backed away slowly. "Yeah…I didn't think we'd be here that fast, so…" He laughed sheepishly, guiding Arthur out of the convention hall. "I have an idea."

Once again, they started the long trek to their shafted hotel room.


	2. The Caramelldansen

Alfred started rummaging through his suitcase. "So I brought some anime, figuring it would be better if you knew at least one before enduring an entire weekend of it," he said. He pulled out a colourful DVD case, twirling it expertly between his fingers.

Arthur took the box from him. "Believe it or not, I seem to remember watching this before." Pokémon, the box said. "Though I don't remember when or why."

"In that case…" Alfred took the box back from him. "Let's try this one." He handed him an even more colourful box. "I don't think you've heard of this."

He stared at the orange bubble letters. "Axis Powers Hetalia?" he said. "What's it about?"

"Just put it in the player."

Arthur did as he was told, switching on the TV. Alfred sat on the bed and Arthur squeezed beside him as best he could. They had to lean on each other for support. Alfred took the TV remote in his hand. "Prepare to have your mind blown," he said, holding his finger over it.

"Really now, I don't think it could be that amazing."

"Oh, not that it's amazing. You'll know what I mean after seeing it." He navigated through the menu and hit the 'play all' button. Arthur jumped, hearing the way the guy on the screen spoke.

_"Dude, I think the world conference can convene, solving all of today's problems by talking excessively!"_

Arthur grabbed the remote and paused the video. "Now that's just freaky," he said. He looked from Alfred, to the guy on the screen, and back to Alfred. "He looks and sounds exactly like you."

Alfred laughed and grabbed the remote back. "You ain't seen nothing yet." Alfred continued the video. America spoke for a while longer. Then another blond-haired character showed up.

_"There's no way some stupid hero could stop global warming-"_

The Brit on the screen was cut off by Alfred hitting the remote. The Brit on the bed sat staring dumbfounded at the messy-haired, huge-eyebrowed, and tea-drinking animated character. "He's…"

Alfred sighed. "England," he said, leaning his head on Arthur's shoulder and staring dreamily at the screen. "I could stare at him aaaaaaaaall day."

Arthur barely heard him. He was still busy observing the TV, matching the screen Brit's features to his own. Green eyes. Messy blond hair. Accent. And the eyebrows…the exact same huge, bushy eyebrows.

"Hello? Arthur?" Alfred was trying to get his attention. "Did you hear my question?"

"Huh?"

"I was asking you what you thought of him."

"That guy?" Arthur pointed to the screen.

"Yeah."

Arthur managed a small laugh. "You're right. My mind is blown," he said.

Alfred sighed. "I think I'm in love," he said.

Arthur nodded, then what the American had said cued in. He jumped slightly. "With who? A fictional character!"

Alfred grinned sheepishly. "Yup."

Arthur stared at him. He felt a slow blush creeping up his face and turned away.

Alfred tried to look at his face. "What?" he said, smiling.

"It's nothing."

Alfred poked at Arthur's cheek. "No it's not," he teased. "You're blushing."

Arthur turned back. The blush seemed to have passed. "I said it's nothing!"

"Come on Arty," he said. "Tell meee." He kept poking at his cheek.

Arthur swatted his hand away. "If you MUST know," he said, "just before you said that, I was thinking how similar I am to him."

Alfred shrugged. "I know," he said. "You are similar. You're just as cute and stubborn as he is."

Arthur's blush returned, even more furiously than before. "Seriously, first you say you're gay. Now suddenly you just tell me these things out of the blue." Arthur shook his head.

"You were bound to figure it out this weekend anyways." He paused and breathed out. Arthur sensed a story coming. Alfred continued. "I figured out I was homo in tech class 3 years ago. We had some free time and I was bored, so I started watching the girl next to me watch stuff on YouTube." He paused. "Her name was Elizabeth or something like that. Anyways, she was watching some kind of anime and I remember thinking it was weird. There were these two guys in an abandoned warehouse, saying they needed to find something. Then one of them tackled the other to the ground, they said some stuff, next thing you knew one had his dick up the other's ass. And, I don't know, I just couldn't look away. I tried. I really did, but I couldn't." Alfred put his hand on his face, trying to cover the blush.

Arthur was weirded out. "Animated porn," he said, trying to wrap his brain around the concept.

"Yup, pretty much." Alfred winced. "I asked Elizabeth what she was watching. 'Yaoi', she called it. And…well, it's not hard to figure out what happened from there. Having never really _liked_ girls, I just started noticing guys and was already way too far when I realized it."

The Brit stared at his friend. Alfred was usually so cheerful. Seeing him like this, it was…well, different, and Arthur hated it. He reached out and put his hand on Alfred's shoulder. "It's okay, Al. No one's going to judge you because of it."

"You think so?"

"Look. There's a grand total of ten girls in our school, and a bunch of guys you know are bound to be the same."

"True."

Arthur took his hand away and resumed the position he was in before in front of the TV. "Now then, now about we just watch the rest of this?" He smiled at Alfred.

"Sure." Alfred returned the smile and played the video.

Despite every country reminding him one way or another of someone he knew, Arthur enjoyed the anime more than he thought he would. He laughed at the cultural references and poked fun at Alfred when America's weight and love of hamburgers was taken into question. Alfred countered by pointing out that England believed in black magic and fairytale characters.

"You probably do the same stuff in _your_ basement. You never let me down there," Alfred said.

"I do not!" Arthur countered.

"Then what's there?"

"None of your business."

"I rest my case."

Arthur scowled.

3 hours and 35 episodes later, the two of them were walking down the stairs towards the convention, Arthur still laughing at the way England had reacted to seeing France naked and Alfred singing 'Maru Kaite Chikyuu'.

Alfred grinned at the Brit. "So you glad I dragged you here yet?"

Arthur slowly calmed down. He grinned back. "Yes, I guess I am."

"Sweet."

"I just hope there are more cartoons that are as good as that one."

"It's not cartoons, it's _anime_," Alfred reminded him.

"Alrighty then."

The line was shorter and progressed faster than before. Soon enough, they were inside the building.

Arthur stared wide-eyed at his surroundings. "Wow…" he said simply, at a loss for words. The room he found himself in was huge. Long black curtains were suspended from the ceiling, separating the various events going on throughout it. There was now a line that went all the way around the building for the tickets and Arthur was glad they had gotten them when they did. The most amazing thing he saw, though, was the people there. Groups of them ran laughing to different places, sporting bright green, pink, and blue hair and equally bright clothing. Some were carrying weapons taller than Alfred and wearing hats that looked like they would weigh 50 pounds. Every so often, someone would tap one of these people on the shoulder and take a picture of them.

Alfred stepped in front of him. "Crazy, huh?" he said. "These guys probably all made their costumes themselves."

Arthur nodded, open-mouthed. "Everyone…they're…"

"Cosplayers," Alfred said, cutting him off.

"What?"

"People who dress up as their favourite anime characters. There's even more outside."

Arthur instinctively started out to see for himself. Alfred was right: the grassy hills that surrounded the building were completely occupied by cosplayers, laughing and shouting things at each other.

"EVERYBODY SIGN THE DEATH NOTE!"

"TEACH ME, SENSEI!"

"ARE THESE EARS REAL?"

Alfred laughed, getting the references that Arthur thought were completely random exclamations. "This is way more awesome than I expected," Alfred said. "Let's take a walk around."

Arthur seemed to have recovered and was taking in all the sights and sounds in full force. Alfred watched his companion's reactions. "We need to get ourselves some costumes too," he said. "And you're not allowed to say no."

"There's no way you're getting me into a costume for some character I've never heard of," Arthur replied bluntly.

"We'll see about that," Alfred said, grinning.

They rounded another corner, where they found loud music playing to a mob of hyper cosplayers. Alfred dragged Arthur to a stop beside the dancers, just as the last song was finishing and another started. Alfred's ears perked up and he smiled a huge smile. He recognized the song. Apparently the rest of the dancers did too, as they cheered loudly as soon as they heard the opening notes. The crowd grew even bigger as fan after fan came to join it. Alfred turned to Arthur. "Let's dance, dude," he said.

"What? But I-" Alfred shushed him and dragged him nearer to the speakers.

"This is a bad idea, Alfred…"

"Just grin and bear it," he replied.

Arthur groaned. He rolled his eyes and let himself be dragged by the American.

Alfred let go of the other's wrist and flapped his hands repeatedly like a lunatic above his head. He started moving his hips side to side.

Arthur listened to the lyrics of the upbeat song. It was sung in an almost indistinguishable foreign language.

"Come on, Arty, you're the only one not dancing!" And, as Arthur looked around, he noticed he was indeed the only one not doing the exact same thing Alfred was doing. Reluctantly, he joined in.

The crowd just kept on doing the same thing. When the chorus of the cong came, everyone who knew it belted it out at the top of their lungs, despite not knowing the language.

Alfred did the same, mumbling most of the words until the last one, which the entire crowd seemed to know, shouting it simultaneously. "CARAMELLDANSEN!" At this the mob cheered again.

Maybe it was the beat of the song, maybe it was seeing Alfred get so excited, maybe it was the hilarious sight of a bunch of people bobbing up and down like chickens, but Arthur admitted to himself that he was starting to enjoy the dance. He cracked a smile.

He noticed Alfred grinning at him.

"What?" he said

"You look incredibly sexy moving your hips like that," Alfred said.

Arthur blushed. "Shut up!"


	3. The Getting into Costume

"You loved that, didn't you?" Alfred said, teasing.

"Perhaps."

The duo had returned inside the building after the song was done. Alfred suggested going to the dealer's room. Arthur, completely clueless about conventions, agreed.

"What do we find in this room?" he said.

"It's where all the _dealers_ sell their stuff, obviously," Alfred replied, giving him a funny look.

"So I see." Arthur felt stupid.

There was quite a crowd heading into the room. The security guys at the front of the crowd were asking people to flip their tags over.

Arthur was starting to get impatient. _Is everything here going to be crowded?_ He wondered to himself.

Eventually they got in. The space was - to their surprise - not very crowded. Most people were huddled around tables full of boxes of manga and anime, shelves of pillows and dolls, and racks of every kind of random trinket of every single anime fandom imaginable.

For the third time of the night, Arthur's mind was blown.

Alfred stared at the Brit and laughed. "You're weird, you know that?"

Arthur raised his eyebrows at him. "Look who's talking." He grinned and started to walk down one of the aisles.

"Aw, man, that was low. Real low," Alfred said, jogging in front of the other with a stupid smile plastered on his face. "I think we'll be getting you a costume now." He grabbed Arthur's wrist and started to drag him to the end of the aisle.

"Hey! I said I didn't want-mmph!" Alfred cut him off by putting a hand over his mouth. With the other hand, he pointed to the booth beside him.

"You said you wouldn't wear a costume for a character you _didn't know_," he said mischievously.

Arthur followed Alfred's finger. He spotted a rack full of costumes. He scanned it. Bright colours, bright colours, school uniforms, and then – _no goddamn way_, he thought.

Seeing the blush spread across Arthur's cheeks, Alfred smiled. He dropped his hand and without another thought, skipped over to the guy selling stuff at that booth and pointed out the two costumes that interested him. The guy gave him a funny look and pulled them off the rack for him. Alfred thanked him and handed him a wad of bills. He returned to where Arthur was standing, waving the plastic-covered garments in his face.

"Let's go change," he said.

Arthur ran his hand through his hair. "I don't believe this…"

-

"Why are the washrooms so bloody hard to find?" Arthur complained.

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Why haven't you stopped complaining for _one minute_ since we started looking for it?"

Arthur scowled. "Whatever, we're here now."

After 10 minutes of aimless wandering and asking around, they had finally found the washrooms in the furthest corner of the dealer's room. Pushing the door open, they found it to be kind of small. It was rather empty, though, considering the amount of people at the convention.

"Don't you think these costumes are kind of hot to be wearing during the summer?" Arthur asked, pulling the plastic wrapping off his and examining it.

"I've seen people wearing thicker costumes than yours today." Alfred pulled off his T-shirt. "And if I hear you complain about this convention once more, I'm making you pay for that." He gave the Brit a crooked smile.

"How much did they cost, anyways?" Arthur stared at Alfred's well-toned abs.

"'Bout a hundred bucks each," he replied, shrugging. He followed Arthur's gaze. "Yeah, I know I look amazing, but quit staring and start changing."

Arthur turned away from him, embarrassed to have been caught. "Alright, alright." He pulled off his own shirt, replacing it with the white one from the costume.

"Hey, Arthur," Alfred said, replacing his runners with almost knee-length black boots.

"Hmm?" Arthur's voice was muffled by the tie that he was holding in his mouth.

"You realize a bunch of fangirls are gonna ask for our pictures, right?" He pulled on the cosplay jacket and examined himself in the mirror.

Arthur finished buttoning up his own jacket. "I figured as much." He turned to face Alfred and smiled, seeing him in costume. "America."

Alfred turned around, surprised to hear the name of who he was cosplaying. He gave Arthur a once-over and covered his face with his hand. He turned back to the mirror, pretending to adjust his pants in an attempt to hide his bright pink cheeks. _He's so…so…_"You look great…England."

"Uh…I just don't know what this thing is." Arthur walked between Alfred and the mirror, holding up a brown fabric strap with a clip on either end.

Alfred stared at it and cocked an eyebrow up. "To be honest, I don't really know what it is either." He examined Arthur's costume again. Indeed, it seemed like something was missing. He thought back to the anime. "Oh, I know!" he said. He took the strap from Arthur. "I still don't know what it's supposed to be, but it goes here." He turned so that Arthur faced the mirror and he stood behind him. Alfred reached around the Brit's waist and clipped one end to the left side of the belt. He slid the strap across his chest, slipped it under the right shoulder tab, and along his back to the left side again. His hand lingered on Arthur's back for a while longer. He cleared his throat. "There."

Arthur fingered the brown thing on his shoulder. _Well that was weird_, he thought, his back tingling where Alfred's hand had been.

He stared at the two of them in the mirror. They really did look like the leading English-speaking countries of Hetalia. He smiled at their reflection, thinking that he really shouldn't have made such a fuss about having to get in costume. He thought he looked quite dashing in a military uniform. "Shall we, now?" he said, looking up at Alfred.

Alfred took his and Arthur's clothes under one arm. He grinned. "Let's go, England."

Stepping out of the bathroom, Arthur felt like someone else. Well, technically he was. Walking through the aisles, he felt more eyes on the two of them than when they had been out earlier. A few girls giggled as they walked by. He squirmed uncomfortably. "This is quite awkward," he pointed out to Alfred. "Where are we headed to?"

"Outside, for pictures, I guess," he said, shrugging. "You're gonna need to learn if you're gonna survive Saturday and Sunday."

Arthur shifted in his boots. "What am I supposed to do?"

Alfred exhaled, running his hand through his hair. "To be honest, it depends on the person."

"What do you mean by that?"

"The easiest is when they ask you to do something specific or they ask to take a picture _with_ you. Otherwise, well, you improvise. I'll help you with that." Alfred noticed a couple girls shyly approaching them. "Perfect timing. I'll bet these girls want a picture."

Arthur was about to ask how he knew, but held his tongue as one of them took out a camera. _Right. Here we go, then…_he thought.

"Can I have a picture?" she asked neither of them in particular.

Alfred flashed a thumbs-up at Arthur. "Sure thing," he said, smiling at her.

The girl backed up, waiting for them to do something. Immediately, Alfred struck a 'hero' pose with legs spread out, one hand on his hip and the other extended in a thumbs-up.

Arthur stared at him cluelessly. "What am I supposed to do?" he hissed at him.

"Look annoyed or something," he replied.

Arthur scowled. He folded his arms and frowned at him. "That doesn't really help."

The camera flashed just as he was saying 'help'.

"Thank you!" one of the girls shouted before running off.

Alfred dropped his arm and smiled at Arthur. "That was perfect, man."

Arthur was taken by surprise, first by the camera flash, then by Alfred's reaction. He shrugged. "Well, I didn't mean to, but it I guess it worked."

The other laughed. "Don't worry. You looked like you'd been doing it for years."

Arthur smiled at the compliment. "As did you."

They stepped outside once again to the crowded hills and mingled voices. Alfred looked up at the cloudless sky, which was now turning slightly orange from the setting sun. "It's real beautiful out here," he said, starting to find a path through the grass.

Arthur followed him. "It is." They stood past the line of trees to the small field just beyond. This seemed to be, at the moment, the prime picture-taking spot. They got onto it, just as Arthur heard someone shout "America!" Alfred spun around, trying to find the source of the voice. He noticed a costume-clad girl running towards them.

"Is she supposed to be…?" Arthur asked him.

"Russia? I think she is," he replied.

"Do you know her?"

"Nope."

Russia stopped right in front of them. She stared at Alfred, then Arthur. "You know, I think this is the first time I've seen two guys cosplay a Hetalia pairing."

_What's a Hetalia pairing? And why not?_ Arthur wondered.

"Really, huh?" Alfred said. "I guess we're just awesome that way." He grinned.

Russia pulled out a camera. "Well anyways, can I get a picture of you guys?"

"Yes you may," Arthur said, not wanting to be left out of the conversation again.

They used the same pose as they had earlier. Russia took her picture then frowned at the camera. "America, come over here a sec!" she said.

Alfred, looking confused, approached her. She whispered something in his ear. Arthur watched as his companion's eyes widened. "Uh, maybe…" he said to her, scratching the back of his head.

"Pleaaaaaaaaaaassssssssseeee?" she said.

"Right, you might not get exactly what you want, but…" he said. He walked back to where Arthur was standing.

"What did she want?" Arthur asked.

Alfred ignored him. He took Arthur by the wrist and pulled him so that the orange part of the sky would be behind them in the picture. He turned to face the Brit. "I apologize in advance for this," he said, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing his temples.

"For what?" Arthur asked, cocking his head to one side.

Alfred took this opportunity. He grabbed Arthur's face in both hands and quickly pressed his lips against the other's.

Arthur dimly saw a camera flash and heard Russia squeal. His ears then tuned out whatever else was going on around him. Alfred was kissing him. His best friend was kissing him. A random jumble of thoughts rushed through his mind as he tried to get a grasp on the situation. The only thing he could think was that he was kissing Alfred…and he wasn't trying to get away.

He squeezed his eyes shut.


	4. The Break Time

After what seemed like the longest time in the world, Alfred gently pulled away. Arthur felt his senses slowly coming back to him. He heard Russia coming closer. Finally, he opened his eyes and studied the American's face. The blue-eyed man was staring at him practically the same way. He saw him swallow hard.

"Awk-waaaarrrrrd…" Alfred said, smiling crookedly at Arthur and shifting his eyes.

Arthur laughed uncomfortably. "Let's try to forget that happened, shall we?" he said.

Alfred breathed out. "I'll try." He grinned. "No promising though."

"Don't tell me you guys have never done that before," said Russia from beside them.

They both jumped. "No, actually, I've never kissed anyone before," Alfred said, recovering first.

Arthur looked at him. _Seriously?_ he thought. "Nor have I," Arthur said, blushing.

Russia laughed. "Glad to have been of service, then."

"Right…" they said simultaneously, giving each other a look from the corner of their eye.

"Oh, and one other thing," she went on. She turned to Arthur. "Is that accent real?"

He sighed. "Yes, it's real. I'm from London."

She pointed at him. "You're awesome. Bye!" With that she ran off to join a bunch of friends by a tree.

"She was weird," Arthur said.

"Yeah."

"So…"

"Uh-huh…"

"Earlier she said something about a Hetalia pairing. What exactly is that?"

Alfred looked at him. "You'd think after…" Arthur gave him a questioning look. "Never mind. It's basically two countries that fans think should be in a relationship. America and England tends to be really popular."

"You neglected to tell me this before."

"You're the one who said you looked like England and I looked like America. Besides, it's not like I knew that some crazy fangirl was gonna tell me to kiss you."

Arthur gritted his teeth. "I thought we were forgetting about that."

"It's kind of hard to forget another guy's tongue in your mouth."

Arthur blushed furiously. "I did not tongue you!"

"Oh yes you did." Alfred leaned closer to him. "I can tell you what you had for lunch because of it."

Arthur closed his eyes. "Either way, I didn't mean to. Let's go get supper."

"Fine," he replied, internally thanking him for breaking the tension.

Arthur started to walk towards the convention hall, but Alfred grabbed his shoulder and steered him away. "There's no food in there, smart one." Arthur looked up, and found he was facing a burger place that was right next to them. He groaned. Then he smiled, thinking of a way to get him to forget recent events. "Seriously, Alfred? A Harvey's? You truly are America."

Alfred laughed. "Damn right I am," he said, deliberately flashing the '50' on his back at Arthur. "And I'm starving." He ran the rest of the way to the fast-food place.

-

"You're eating all that," Arthur said. He stared at the tray of overflowing with various greasy foods.

Alfred looked around for an empty table. "Yeah, course I am," he said. "Aha." He spotted a small round one in the corner. He plopped down his tray and immediately unwrapped a giant burger. Arthur swiped a fry from its box. Alfred frowned at him. "You should have gotten your own food."

Arthur stared at the American incredulously. "You're actually bothered by one missing French fry." He shook his head. "And you say I complain too much. Besides-" he held up a finger. "There's the Universal Fry-Sharing Rule."

"Fry-sharing rule?"

"Basically, you're allowed to steal a good friend's fries without asking when they have a lot."

"Random much?" Alfred said, mouth full of burger.

Arthur shifted his eyes. "Whatever." He twisted his head to see the time on Alfred's watch. "It's already 8, huh? We've been here for quite a few hours."

The American swallowed the last bite of his first burger. "We sure have."

"Anything else to do here today?"

"Ymmph, msrf smfn wcgdo."

Arthur turned away, disgusted. "Swallow, you bloody idiot."

"I said I'm sure we could find something we could do." He scrunched up the wrapper of his second burger as he finished it.

"No more walking through 'cosplay' territory out there, though," he said, cheeks going slightly pink.

"Yeah, I agree. Let's just go check out the place for the rest of today." He offered the box of fries to Arthur, who smiled and took one. Alfred proceeded to consume the rest of them at an alarming rate.

"Sounds like an idea."


	5. The Artist's Alley

"There are three buildings to this thing." Arthur had his face buried in the convention booklet the registration lady gave them. "We've been in the main one here…" Arthur pointed to the big grey block on the page. "Then there's the big hotel across the street…here-" he pointed again. "…Hey, turns out our hotel has some stuff happening this weekend too."

Alfred belched loudly.

Arthur leaned away from him, not looking up from the book. "You're bloody _revolting_," he said.

They were still in the burger place, Alfred finishing his food as they decided where to go next.

Arthur flipped a couple pages. "Apparently there's not really anything going on in the hotels until Saturday, except this library thing they have going. Most of the stuff is in the Congress Centre, that's the big one."

Alfred cleared his throat. "Don't try to figure the place out, just go there and wander. It works better."

The other shrugged and closed the book with a slap. "Since it seems you're the expert, you lead us."

"So I will." He stood up, scraping the chair loudly. Arthur stood up after him and they headed out the door.

-

Arthur looked up at the banner over his head as the pair walked through a huge archway into a more secluded part of the building. "Artist Alley" the thing read.

Alfred noticed him looking up cluelessly. "Sooo…yeah. This is the place for practically anyone to sell their anime stuff. Like, stuff that _they_ made, not like in the dealers' room where it's mass produced stuff."

Arthur sighed. "I'm learning just to go with the flow of this place," he said.

The aisles were filled with tables in long rows, each showcasing some kind of art, from pins to posters to stuffed…anime characters plus practically anything that Arthur could imagine and more. Alfred would stop in front of a table every so often to stare at something and smile and tell the artist that they were great, along those lines at least. Arthur would just tag along behind, not really understanding half the words coming out of Alfred's mouth.

Arthur tugged on the other's sleeve. "You're going to have to teach me some of this fan lingo when we get back to the hotel," he said.

"Mmm…yeah, good idea. You seem pretty damn clueless there," Alfred replied bluntly. His head was waving left and right, and he seemed to be looking for something.

They turned a corner. Alfred stopped and stared straight ahead, seeming to have found whatever he was looking for. He walked faster, making a beeline for a table at the end of the aisle. Arthur followed him looking confused. He saw Alfred wave at the person behind the desk. Coming closer, Arthur saw who it was.

"Kiku!" he said, surprised.

"Oh…konichiwa, Arthur-san," Kiku bowed as best he could from behind the desk. He then proceeded to give Arthur a once-over, noticing what he was wearing. He turned to Alfred and did the same. "And Alfred-san."

He leaned in closer to Alfred and whispered. "Ah…Alfred-san, you never told me that you and Arthur-san were-"

"We aren't," Alfred cut him off, blushing slightly. "Anyways…" he looked left and right and leaned closer. "You have that thing I was asking you for?" he whispered, barely loud enough for Arthur to hear.

"A-ah, yes, right here," he said. He bent over a grabbed something from under his table, handing it to Alfred. Arthur peered over his shoulder to see what it was, but Alfred quickly shoved it in the inside pocket of his jacket.

Alfred handed a crumpled 20-dollar bill to Kiku. "S-so…how's the selling going?"

"Very good, arigato." He turned to Arthur. "How are you enjoying yourself, Arthur-san?"

"Erm…" he looked at Alfred's back, blushing and biting back the urge to correct the Japanese man's grammar. "B-better than I thought I would, Kiku," he replied.

"Hey, you're gonna be here the whole weekend, right?" Alfred asked Kiku.

"Hai. I'm selling here today and tomorrow and cosplaying Sunday," he said, nodding.

"Cosplaying? Really?" Arthur said with a sideways smile.

Alfred grinned. "As who?"

Kiku blushed. "L-Luffy," he said, making it sound like "Ruffy."

Alfred bit his lip, holding back his laughter as he tried to picture the man in a straw hat and scruffy clothing. Arthur just stared, confused. "Hey, I'll need to get a picture of that," Alfred said, smiling widely. He turned around to leave. "Later!" he waved. "And thanks again!" he winked.

Arthur gave him a friendly nod.

Kiku bowed to them, blush still visible on his cheeks as Arthur turned around and the pair started walking away.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Alfred burst out laughing.

Arthur cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

"That guy he's cosplaying? Luffy?" He laughed again. "You know what he's like?"

"Please enlighten me," Arthur replied, rolling his eyes.

"Well, he's a pirate."

Arthur looked up, snickering while trying to picture Kiku looking anything remotely like a pirate, let alone _acting_ like one. Add an eyepatch and…Arthur shook himself before letting himself get too carried away. "I think he would have been a rather fitting Japan, actually," he said.

"So did I. He's the reason I know what Hetalia is, you know. I pointed out to him how much he acted like the guy. So he went and got a haircut to go with it," Alfred said grinning.

Arthur gazed at the other, raising an eyebrow. "I was wondering why he'd cut a foot of hair off all of a sudden," he said, remembering when Kiku had walked into class late one day with short hair and no one had recognised him.

Alfred laughed loudly. "Oh yeah, that was aaaaaaaaalllllll me." He seemed to be proud of it too.

Arthur smiled at him. He could see how much the convention was lifting Alfred's spirits and in turn, his own as well. He thought he'd hate it, but he'd ended up becoming rather attached to this Hetalia thing. And the fact that the two of them fit the roles so perfectly. _Ugh_… he thought, blushing and remembering the awkward incident from earlier that day. _Looks like I'm not going to be forgetting about this either_.

Alfred caught his eye and noticed his significantly redder cheeks. He blushed in turn as well, turning away from him.

Sensing the awkward silence, Arthur decided to change the subject. He cleared his throat. "Anyways…" he started, "Is America the reason you gel this thing up every day?" he pointed at the odd group of hair protruding from the top of his head.

"Nope. I just wake up like that and don't bother to put it down, 'cause, you know…" he smiled sheepishly.

"Really? I seriously doubt it just stays there…" Arthur reached up to poke it.

He had just barely brushed it when Alfred grabbed his wrist firmly. His face was a deep red and his teeth were gritted. He swallowed. "Unfortunately…" he started, "It's very sensitive."

Arthur frowned, confused. "How so?" He pulled out of Alfred's grasp, accidentally brushing the ahoge full-on with his palm in the process.

This caused Alfred to grunt loudly and lose his balance a little. He grabbed the other's shoulder for support. His gaze dropped downwards to his pants, which were getting too tight for comfort because of the bulge forming in them. Arthur looked down as well and flushed a deep crimson.

Alfred looked back up at him. "That's what I mean," he said. He swallowed and let go of Arthur's shoulder. "Walk with me," he hissed, heading in the direction of the bathroom.

Arthur nodded, still speechless. He headed after him, being sure to keep Alfred right behind so he wouldn't…attract attention. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. _Arthur, you bloody moron…_ he thought. _Way to make things with Alfred even worse than they already were._ He sighed. _I'm an idiot_.


	6. The Hyperness at the End of the Day

Arthur leaned on the wall outside the bathroom door, arms crossed. "Take as long as you need," he muttered awkwardly to Alfred as he shoved the door open.

Alfred stormed into one of the stalls, slamming the door behind him. He slumped down with a hand against the wall behind the toilet. _Why did Arthur have to see that…_ he thought, blushing from the sheer embarrassment of the moment. _It certainly doesn't help me forget that kiss..._

_Which I enjoyed way more than I should have._ With that thought, he unzipped his fly. Alfred started to touch himself, moaning lightly. _England. England. Oh God, England._ He repeated the word over and over again in his head as images of the animated character flashed through his mind, just like every other time he'd done this in the past. He took his member in hand and pumped it. "Ah…" He started going harder and faster, feeling himself close to the moment. He moaned, no longer caring if someone walked into the bathroom. _Arthur._ He cried out and discharged into the toilet, collapsing exhaustedly on the floor next to it.

He simply sat with his back to the stall door for a while, panting. _What was that last thought?_

Alfred dried himself off with toilet paper and zipped his fly back up. He stood and walked out of the stall to wash his hands, staring at his sweaty reflection in the mirror.

_Arthur?_

-

Alfred stepped out of the bathroom, more or less clean. Arthur turned away from him. "You really didn't have to be so bloody loud," he said.

"You – you heard me?" Alfred blushed bright red for about the thousandth time within the hour.

Arthur didn't reply. "The place closes in 10 minutes, by the way. Some guy just came by shouting it in everyone's ears."

"Really? Aww…"

Arthur turned around to face him. He looked really sad that the day had ended. Arthur smiled. "I do think it's about time we get some rest, though." He smirked at the other. "Right?"

Alfred opened his mouth to say something, but shut it again. "Yeah, we do." He returned the grin, realizing how tired he actually was. "That was way too much crap to happen in one day." He started walking towards the exit, Arthur trailing behind. "But hey! Despite the complications-" he cleared his throat, "I loved being here today!" Alfred walked backwards so he could face Arthur. "Don't you think?"

Arthur smiled. "For once, I can completely agree with you," he said. "But right now I just want to sit down."

Alfred smirked at him. "Old man," he muttered.

"Oi! Don't mock me!" Arthur replied jokingly. He started to run at Alfred, smiling. Alfred laughed and ran away from him. "You come back here!"

They weaved through the confused mob of people, just barely avoiding smacking head-on into a guy dressed in a bunch of cardboard boxes. The dodged people swinging plastic bags from the dealer's room and others holding pillows that were just as big as they were. Alfred nearly tripped over a guy with shoes bigger than Ronald McDonald's and Arthur had to duck to avoid getting whacked by a giant flagpole. The two of them laughed as they ran, coming close to faceplanting a few times, but still managing to have incredible fun doing it.

Alfred burst through the exit doors and Arthur followed, nearly getting hit as they were closing. Alfred sprinted over the small hills, where the cosplayer population had thinned out a bit.

Arthur's smile was wide as he ran behind his friend, loving the feeling of the summer night wind blowing at his face in full force. He felt freer and happier than he had in a long time. He laughed loudly, not caring who would hear him. This made him run faster, doubling his efforts to keep up with the swift American.

Alfred soared over the grassy area, hearing Arthur's laughter behind him. His legs were starting to ache, but in a good way. He absolutely loved to run, and – he had to say so himself – he was damn amazing at it. He tilted his head up to feel the warmth blowing past him. He smiled as he heard Arthur trying to get closer, pushing himself to go faster.

_God, I love summer_, he thought.

Eventually they ran out of grass and had to cross a busy street in order to get to their hotel. Alfred slowed to a halt, putting his hands on his knees and panting on the sidewalk. A few seconds later, Arthur came up behind him, panting as well.

As soon as Alfred had gotten his breath back, he turned to Arthur. "Hey you're getting good, man," he said.

Arthur nodded. "Thank you."

"You were only, what, 10 seconds behind me?" Alfred continued with a smirk.

Arthur punched him mockingly on the shoulder. "Bloody hell, I wasn't slow, you arse. You're just…way too goddamn _fast_."

"Tell me something I don't know," he said, standing straight.

Arthur stood up as well and rolled his eyes at him. "You really are an arse." He smiled back at him.

"I'm kidding." He held out his fist. "I mean it, you're getting good."

Arthur hit the outstretched fist with his own. "Alright."

They started crossing the street to their hotel. "Well now I'm definitely wanting to rest somewhere," Alfred said.

Arthur sighed. "Me too."

They walked through the lobby, exhausted and sweaty. Alfred lazily pressed the elevator button. "I'm showering first, 'kay?" he said.

Arthur was about to protest, but then remembered that Alfred would need it more than he did. "Go right ahead."

The elevator doors _ding_ed open and they stepped in. Arthur sat down and leaned his head against the wall. Alfred sat across from him. He yawned. "Wake me up in 10 minutes, 'kay?"

Arthur nodded and within the minute, Alfred was asleep. Arthur hugged his knees to his chest and stared at the American. _What a weird day._ He went over its events in his head. First Alfred broke the news about his sexuality. Then they watched Hetalia and Alfred had gotten him a costume for – Arthur realized too late – a character that Alfred was deeply infatuated with. Then other awkward shit happened. Arthur put his head in his hands, wondering how the hell Alfred had nerves in his hair.

Arthur yawned. He, too, was exhausted. He crawled to where Alfred was sitting, picking up his hand to look at his watch. 10:00 pm. He sighed. It seemed like days ago that he had been sitting on the bus complaining about coming here in the first place.

Arthur looked up at the moving lights above the elevator doors. They were almost at their floor. He shook Alfred's shoulder. "Oi, Alfred…"

The American kept sleeping. He shook harder. "Alfred!" Alfred just sighed in his sleep. The doors opened to their floor.

"Bugger," Arthur muttered. He slung Alfred's arm over his shoulder, grunting with the effort of lifting him up. He dragged him haphazardly into the hall as the doors closed behind them. He lowered him down to the floor of the hallway.

Arthur sighed. When Alfred was asleep, he was like a dead man. Arthur reached into his pocket and pulled out the key card, walking down the hall to their room to open the door. He went back to where Alfred was flopped against the wall, bent over and picked Alfred up bridal style. He walked shakily through the open door and into the washroom, dropping Alfred headfirst into the bathtub. Arthur reached for the cold water knob and turned it on all the way, right overtop of Alfred's head.

The latter woke with a start, sputtering. If there was one thing Alfred hated, it was the cold. He jumped up and out of the tub, shaking his hair off and spraying Arthur, who was standing behind him. "Arthur!" he frowned. "I told you to wake me up in the elevator!"

Arthur shrugged, wiping the water off his face and leaning against the door. "I tried. For about two minutes," he replied coolly. "There's no other way I could have woken you up. Now go take a shower," he said, walking away.

Alfred bit back his irritation. It was true, when he wanted to sleep, there was only the one way to wake him up. Arthur was pretty much the only one who knew how to do it. He sighed, starting to take off his jacket and costume.


	7. The Sleepless Night

Arthur lay on the bed with his arms folded behind his head. He had taken his jacket and tie off, it really wasn't the greatest thing to be wearing in the summer. Hearing the shower turn on, he stood up. He crouched down beside Alfred's suitcase, pulled out his laptop and plugged it into the wall, turning it on. Alfred wouldn't mind, they practically shared everything they had anyways.

The screen flickered on, asking for Alfred's password. Arthur typed in "Hero-certified-burgers" and the tinkly welcome music played. He smirked. Good thing Alfred used the same password for everything.

He sat back on the bed, clicking on the internet icon and setting out to do what he had turned the computer on for in the first place. Grateful for the American's wireless access, he went to Google images. He typed in "Hetalia America and England", wanting to see if his suspicions were correct based on what Alfred and that Russia character had told him. His finger hovered over the go button. _Good idea? Bad idea?_ Curiosity took over and he hit 'enter'. He started skimming over the pictures, one by one. _Yes, yes, okay…_ he thought, seeing images of the two standing beside each other…_Sure…wait, wait…_ there were a couple images of the two nations kissing. Arthur blushed. He had half-expected it, but the pictures still came as a bit of a surprise to him. _Okay. What!_ The further down the page he went, the more strange and awkward the images got. There was one with England as a policeman, handcuffing America to a bed in a way that seemed far too intimate to be an arrest, while – for a reason Arthur could not possibly fathom – neither of them were wearing shirts. Another where you couldn't see the bottom half of the picture, but in which England was gasping and blushing profusely while America had his hands near the other's nether regions, doing God-knows-what, as the image was cut off at this point.

Arthur quickly closed the window, shaking slightly and feeling an odd tingling sensation in his nose. He shook his head, opening the internet again and signing into his Facebook account. He wondered if Alfred knew how incredibly messed up his fandom was. But, Arthur had to admit, the anime was bloody hilarious.

He scrolled down the page, checking whatever was in the feed, when Alfred's status caught his eye. It read:

**Alfred F Jones**  
>is out of the closet! ^_^ Thank you <strong>Arthur Kirkland<strong>!

Arthur facepalmed.

He groaned loudly, massaging his temples. Only Alfred would make a huge deal at first of something like being gay then announce it excitedly to the world. And, saying it in as stupid a manner as "out of the closet".

Just then, Alfred emerged from the bathroom wearing only his boxers and carrying his costume in his arms. He spotted Arthur on the bed. "Wat'cha doing there?" he asked.

Arthur looked up. "Facebook," he said. "Really, Alfred? Your status?" he asked incredulously.

Alfred smiled sheepishly. "You're the one who said no one would judge me."

Arthur sighed. "Yes, but they won't take you seriously if you just say it like that!" He paused. "Then again, it's you…" he said.

Alfred dropped his costume to the floor and climbed onto the bed beside him, resting his chin on Arthur's shoulder. "Sure, sure. Thanks for worrying, buddy, but to be honest" – he smiled – "I don't really give a shit what they think."

Arthur gave him a disbelieving look before turning his head back to the screen. "Your choice," he said, clicking the 'like' button on the status.

"Arty…" Alfred said, shifting his chin so he could see the screen better, "why did you Google that?" He pointed to the little Google search bar in the upper corner of the screen, which still said "Hetalia America and England".

_Shit_, Arthur thought. He had forgotten about that thing. "U-uh…I was curious…" he mumbled awkwardly.

Alfred frowned. "Yeah…you could have asked me, you know?" He bent over and grabbed his jacket, pulling out the package that Kiku had given him. He unwrapped the thing and handed it to Arthur. "Fanservice," he explained.

Arthur examined the cover, which seemed to be on the back of the book. On it was a simple picture of America and England sitting on a porch and looking lazy. "Bliss," he read. "By Kiku Honda." He cocked an eyebrow.

"Yup. Kiku drew all this. Oh, you may want to keep that fact secret, by the way," he said, quieter.

"Why?"

"You'll know when you read it."

"Do I really want to?"

"Mmm…you decide."

Arthur shrugged and started reading, backwards. _Really, how bad could it be, coming from Kiku?_

He flipped through the first few pages. It was hard to read at first, but eventually he understood the way the speech bubbles and everything went.

England had invited America on vacation, just for the hell of it is what it seemed like. They found themselves practically alone at some random island that apparently nobody lived on, because the two nations seemed to be the only ones there. Some stuff happened that Arthur didn't really understand…

But the one thing he did notice was the lack of storyline. It seemed like the entire point of the beginning of the story was to get them starting the 'important' bit.

_"Hey England…"_

_"Hmm?"_

_"England…?"_

_"What?"_

_"England…"_

_"What do you want, you bloody – mmph!"_

At this point America had simply grabbed England and started kissing him forcefully.

Arthur went bright red seeing this, blushing even further at the detailed close-up shots emphasizing the tonguing involved in the kiss. The two went inside to their hotel room…

Arthur turned his head to look at Alfred. Alfred laughed uncomfortably, obviously trying to hide how embarrassed he was.

"What happens next…is it what I think it is?" Arthur asked him.

"Well…yeah," he said. He still had that sheepish look on his face.

Arthur turned the page and peeked at the other side. England had forced America down on the bed and straddled him. There were little breath clouds emerging from their mouths, carrying strange sound effects such as 'hah' and 'nngh'. The picture was still "innocent" at this point. He flipped another page, on which the two of them were starting to take off their clothes.

Alfred sighed, blowing warm breath on Arthur's neck.

Arthur shuddered. "Jesus, Alfred, that's really creepy. Especially while I'm reading this," he said.

"Sorry." He lifted his chin, but kept staring at the page with lustful eyes.

Arthur turned the page and stared at it, trying to process what he saw. Then he jumped, dropping the book in shock.

"Wh-what in hell…" Arthur said, blushing.

Alfred fell off the bed laughing. Literally.

Arthur shuddered. It had been a picture that spanned both pages, every detail inked in carefully and deliberately and…bloody _realistically_. From where the two nations had their hands, to their facial expressions – America's, sheer ecstasy; England's, pain – to even every aspect of their freaking _anatomy_. It really left nothing to the imagination. "Alfred…wh-what…"

"Ha…ha…you should have seen your face!" Alfred said, lifting himself back up onto the bed.

"How do you read that?" Arthur exclaimed. "It's…It's…" he didn't quite know how to finish his sentence. "Kiku drew that?"

"That's why I said not to tell anyone 'bout it," he said, wiping the tears from his eyes. "That thing's a doujinshi, by the way. It's…well, in case you haven't guessed, stuff that fans draw. Usually X-rated." Alfred grinned at him.

Arthur swallowed. He picked up the book and put it facedown on his lap. "You're a real creep, you know that?"

"You have a problem with it?"

"I don't care, you do whatever you want."

Alfred smiled. "Somehow I figured you'd say that."

Arthur stood up. He handed the doujinshi to Alfred, who grabbed it and immediately started reading where he and Arthur had left off.

Arthur stared at him in disbelief, shook his head and went to take a shower.

Alfred grinned at his retreating back and curled up contentedly with his doujin.

-

Arthur emerged several minutes later wearing only his boxers and rubbing the water out of his hair with a towel. He chucked the rest of his costume on his suitcase and looked over at Alfred, whose face – bright red – was still buried in the pages of the book. He didn't look up once as Arthur lifted the sheet and climbed into the bed beside him. Arthur peered over Alfred's shoulder to see where he was in the "story".

England and America had, evidently, just finished their business. They lay beside each other and America was stroking England's cheek.

_"Hey, England, you're falling for me, aren't you?"_

_"W-well…you are too."_

_"Yup."_

America kissed England for, what, the fiftieth time in that tiny book.

Arthur rolled his eyes. Those lines were cheesy as hell.

Alfred, however, let out an "Awwww" worthy of a 10-year-old girl.

He closed the book with a sigh. "That was awesome."

"Yeah. Right." Arthur flopped over on the bed, looking at Alfred's watch. 11:30. He turned so he was facing away from the other. "Get the lights, will you?" he said into the pillow.

"Sure thing." Alfred got up and hit the switch, placing the doujinshi and his glasses carefully on the end table beside him. "'Night, Artie."

"Goodnight." Arthur felt Alfred slip under the covers beside him. The size of the bed made it so that they were both almost falling off the edge.

Within ten minutes, Alfred was asleep and snoring.

Arthur sighed, rolled onto his back and pulled the sheets off his chest. It was a bloody hot night, even with the air-con on. He folded his hands behind his head, trying to get some sleep, but Alfred's snoring was preventing any chance of it. He closed his eyes and simply lay there thinking – now that he had time, and peace and (almost) quiet.

This was not necessarily a good thing, when he was trying to forget that the two of them had had any moment of intimacy whatsoever. Arthur touched his mouth subconsciously. He remembered the feeling of Alfred's lips pressing against them, so unbelievable that it had shut down his brain to the point where he didn't realize what he was doing and lost track of time. Unbelievable yet amazing – however much he hated to admit it.

He was pulled out of the moment by the sound of Alfred sighing and rolling over onto his back, accidentally whacking Arthur's stomach in the process. "Mmm…England…" he mumbled.

Arthur smirked. Alfred was an England fanboy on a whole other level. He bloody well dreamed about the guy. Though Arthur still didn't understand how it was possible for him to be in love with a 2-D image…

Alfred rolled over again so he was partially lying on top of the other. Arthur scowled quietly and tried to push the heavy American off his chest. Alfred didn't budge. He simply rubbed his head into the crook of Arthur's neck. "England…" he said again with a slurred voice.

Arthur gave up his struggle and exhaled, allowing Alfred to shift more directly overtop of him. He kept mumbling England's name and random other indistinguishable words all the while squirming about, which was disturbing the Brit greatly.

He started all of a sudden, hearing Alfred mumble something odd. He shook his head, thinking he had misheard him. Alfred repeated himself, louder and more pronounced. "Arthur…" he said. "Arthur…love…"

Arthur tensed up completely, suddenly becoming _very_ awake. More conscious of Alfred's cheek rubbing against his shoulder, Alfred's chest pressed firmly against his own, the soft breath on his neck, the hair against his chin, the hand brushing his ear, the notable bulge leaning against his – _WHAT AM I THINKING?_

Arthur closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, feeling his heart rate go absolutely insane. _This really shouldn't be bothering me,_ Arthur told himself in an effort to calm down. _It's just a dream…just a really weird, awkward dream of his…_

It didn't really work. His heart was still hammering against Alfred's chest, so loud he was surprised the American didn't react to it. He moved his arm, taking Alfred's wrist and trying to move it gently away from his face. Alfred grunted in his sleep and pulled his wrist away, moving his arms up the pillow to go around the top of Arthur's head.

Arthur groaned. _How the hell am I getting to sleep now…_

After lying there stupidly for a few minutes, he figured out if he kept thinking about the odd situation he currently found himself in, he'd be up the whole night and be dead tired for the next bit of the convention in the morning.

The convention. God, he'd never realized he'd have so much fun. At first, he had dreaded the idea of spending three days with 8, 000-odd anime freaks in the same building. Afraid he wouldn't understand a thing that was going on and that Alfred would just forget that he was there, going off to rant to other random people (like he often did).

Then, after being there for a mere five hours at the most, he found he didn't _need_ to know anything. It was easygoing, which wasn't exactly Arthur's style, but was nice as a change of pace once in a while. And just to be able to spend free time with his best friend, dancing, cosplaying, sprinting and laughing…doing everything they did, really. To Alfred, it may have been like just another of his days. But to Arthur, it was like going batshit insane and absolutely loving it.

Arthur sighed. That, he decided, is what I'm going to do. For once, I'm going to let everything go absolutely mental and not care at all. If Alfred loves me for being like England, let him love. I don't care. _No more thinking._

Having resolved his issue, he sighed and smiled. He wrapped his arms tightly around Alfred and drifted off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.


	8. The Early Morning

**A/N:** Thanks for all the feedback guys! I really appreciate it. I am quite surprised that people like this as much as they do…and now I'm afraid of disappointing. O_O

Oh, and special thanks to 'Polenta'…who reviewed this fic somewhere around 20 times…and helped me with some Britishness. C:

One more thing. Sorry about the spoilers, but…Alfred and Arthur WILL be doing R18 rated stuff. Together. If that wasn't obvious enough, you're…you're…Italy. Just saying, for the people who aren't into that kinda thing. Though I'm sure you all are, to a degree.

Sorry, I lied, that wasn't the last thing. I'm now gonna change the chapter names to each by highlights/common events of cons. Or, apparently, expos. XD

So the story continues!

Alfred woke up first. He looked at his watch – 7:00. He groaned, wondering how he could be awake so early on a Saturday.

After the brief 10 seconds of early-morning haze, it all came rushing back to him. _Right, right, the convention..._ He refreshed his memory of what happened. He recalled first that it had been an amazing day for him. He had envisioned the con to be so much, what with the thousands of people just like him that would be there and the stuff they would all be doing. It had delivered beyond what he had expected, without even having to meet new people, just by having Arthur by his side.

Alfred sighed contently, thinking about his best friend, and buried his face into his pillow. It was soaking wet. The wetness got on his face and his chest.

That was weird...

He turned his head to the side, but Arthur wasn't there. To the other side, no luck either. He frowned, confused, letting his head plop back onto his pillow.

It grunted.

That wasn't a pillow.

The first thing Alfred noticed was Arthur's arms. He didn't have to look behind him to know that they were wrapped around his body.

Alfred looked up slowly, knowing what he was going to see, yet eyes widening when he saw his companion fast asleep and pinned beneath him. The sight made his heart rate shoot up, pumping all his blood into his cheeks. Fortunately it hadn't been pumped elsewhere.

Alfred tried to move, finding that his arms were pinned beneath Arthur's neck and their legs were somewhat tangled together. Their chests were bare and Arthur's was sweaty, presumably from having no access to fresh air for the entire night.

Alfred blushed. Anyone who would have so happened to walk in the room would have thought…

He squeezed his eyes shut, rejecting the idea. _Don't be an idiot,_ he thought. _Arthur would never…_

He delicately removed Arthur's hands from his back and placed them by his side, at the same time wiggling his arms out from underneath his neck. Arthur had a slight smile plastered on his face, a sign he was still sleeping. At seven in the morning, if he were awake, there would be a scowl in place until he had some tea.

Alfred chuckled. He knew his friend too well.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, standing up and stretching. He went to the bathroom to wipe the sweat off his chest and cheek. He stood in the mirror, toweling himself off.

_I'm wiping England's liquid off me…after a night in the same bed…and we're still only wearing our – NO! PERVERT! STUPID! STUPID!_ Alfred whacked his head on the granite sink area, hoping to prevent his thoughts from running astray. He shook himself. It was _Arthur_, goddamn it! Arthur, who would never have anything beyond friendship with him!

He walked back out, surprised to see the Brit still fast asleep, despite Alfred having so violently and noisily hit the stone with his head. He shrugged and walked over to the phone on the nightstand, picking it up and dialing.

"Room service," a tired male voice said.

"A tea and a coffee brought to room 3417, please," Alfred replied. Obviously the other guy didn't want to bother being polite, so the American didn't, either.

"No problem, madam."

"_Sir_," Alfred corrected, holding back a snicker. This guy sure was tired if he thought he was a girl.

"Sorry. No problem, sir."

With that he hung up. Alfred laughed to himself, picking up his pile of costume and getting a shirt on. Fail room service guy.

Once he finished, he sat in the chair by the balcony door, observing the slim convention activity at this hour and simply waiting for something to happen.

He didn't have to wait long. Arthur groaned, and Alfred whirled his head around. Arthur rolled over in his direction and opened his eyes slowly. Alfred stared at the irises, still an incredibly vivid green from the opposite end of the room. Alfred stood up and went to sit on the floor beside the bed so he could properly see Arthur's face.

"Morning," Arthur said in a monotone.

"Morning," Alfred said, grinning back. "Did you sleep good?"

"It's 'did you sleep _well_,' you dolt."

Incredible. He even had the power to correct grammar two seconds after he woke up.

Arthur continued. "And yes, I did sleep well, despite you not letting me move by deciding to pin me to the bed."

Alfred twitched then recovered a second later by smiling. "Just for the record, I didn't decide to do that. You know I move around when I'm dreaming." Come to think of it, he couldn't really remember what he dreamed about…

Arthur sighed and sat up. "You talk, too," he muttered, standing and stretching.

Alfred watched. "Really? What'd I say?"

Arthur didn't reply, walking over to his costume, neatly folded on his suitcase. Instead he said, "First thing I do when we get down to the foyer is get a cup of tea."

"Already taken care of," Alfred said, grinning wide and standing up.

Arthur cocked an eyebrow at him, wanting an explanation. As if on cue, there was a knock at their door. Alfred went to open it. A guy in a maroon suit handed him a tray with two mugs, a pot, and a bunch of milk and sugar. Alfred took the tray from him.

"Thanks…" he looked at the guy's name tag. "Maurice."

The man bowed, and Alfred handed the tray to Arthur to get the tip out of his pocket.

Arthur sat down on the bed, placing the tray on the nightstand and getting to work right away on his tea. Alfred went to join him.

"Funny that's his name's Maurice," he said.

"Why so?"

Alfred reached for his coffee. "Catcher in the Rye," he replied simply.

Arthur scowled. "That bloody book," he said, recalling the partner project they had been assigned to work on based in tenth year, based on it. They had to analyze characters in the story, and Alfred and Arthur had been assigned the character Maurice, a man who worked at a hotel.

Alfred shook his head, pouring his 6th spoon of sugar into his mug. "I know you hated the book. But if you remember, it's over that project that you became my best friend." He smiled fondly at the other.

The friend in question took a sip of his tea and smiled back. "That's the only reason I haven't tried to forget it."

Alfred smiled, put down his coffee and hugged Arthur tightly. "I love you," he said simply.

Arthur leaned his head on Alfred's shoulder. "I know."

The two stayed like this for a few seconds.

Then Alfred remembered the dream he had last night.

It picked a damn good moment to come back to him.

-

_Arthur and I are in black and white. We are walking away from an old style airplane, when Arthur takes my hand. This is normal for us, yet we barely know each other. Arthur turns to face me. "Jones, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."_

_Arthur and I keep walking. What he said is familiar to me, but I don't remember why._

_We suddenly lift off the ground, continuing to hold hands. I look down and I know I won't fall. We sit down on a cloud. Arthur turns to me. "Alfred, you're amazing," he says. He is completely different from when he was on the ground. I also notice we are no longer in black and white, but fuzzy colour._

_I don't know how to answer him. "You complete me, Arthur," I finally say. I don't decide to say it, I just do._

_Our lips touch once and briefly. More vivid colour streams into the world._

_I haven't noticed, but now the cloud has become an eagle. We are riding atop the eagle's back._

_Arthur is now wearing England's clothes. "England," I whisper, hugging him from behind. "England." Nothing more._

_He doesn't acknowledge me. I say his name desperately a few times more._

_I suddenly realize I have stopped saying 'England' and what comes out is 'Arthur', no matter how hard I try to say 'England', Arthur is what comes out. Tears stream down my face._

_I give up trying to say England. "Arthur," I say. He turns to me and kisses me again, deeply. He tastes like what I imagine him to taste like. He smiles and floats away, obscured from my vision by a cloud._

_I look at the puff of white. "Arthur, my love…" I whisper to it. Then I smile. "Here's looking at you, kid."_

_Again, what I said is familiar to me, though I can't remember why._

-

"Alfred?" Arthur said, sounding concerned.

Alfred came out of his momentary zone-out. He realized he was still hugging Arthur. He let go, studying the other's face.

"Casablanca," he whispered.

Arthur frowned in confusion. "Sorry?"

Alfred shook himself. "Oh…um, I just remembered my dream is all." He picked up his coffee and took a sip, hiding his cheeks. That's what the lines in his dream were from. Casablanca.

Arthur stared at him for a while. "I can imagine why you're blushing, then," he said.

_Damn, he noticed…_ Alfred thought. "Why's that?"

The Brit sipped his tea. "If what you were saying last night is anything like what you dreamed about, you have reason to be embarrassed."

"What did I say?"

"You were confessing your love for me."

Alfred swallowed. "For England?"

"No, for me. It made it bloody awkward, especially with you lying on top of me like that."

It was odd that Arthur didn't seem to be bothered by it. Alfred didn't attempt to hide his rising blush. "And you don't care?" he asked, faking a smile.

"Not particularly," Arthur said, grinning back. "It's a dream. Dreams don't mean anything."

Alfred's heart lurched forward. He looked down into his coffee, a dark cream colour swirling around in a darker brown. He, unlike Arthur, believed the old saying that 'dreams were a reflection of your greatest desires.' The current situation, as a result, scared him out of his mind.

Alfred was left staring into the continuously spiralling coffee, pondering the classic, yet just as unanswerable question:

_What is this feeling?_


	9. The Fellow Cosplayers

Arthur stared curiously at his friend, seemingly transfixed by his beverage. He decided to break the awkward morning silence. "So…d'you know what we're doing when we get down to the convention today?" he asked.

Alfred jumped. "Oh…right. Um…" he started. "How 'bout we just look around and see what's going on?"

"Really? Is there nothing remotely special happening?" Arthur sighed.

"There probably is, I just don't know what." Again with the staring into the coffee.

"Check the book."

"Okay." He didn't move, though.

Arthur sighed. He downed the remainder of his tea in a single gulp and stood up. Alfred didn't move. Arthur took the mug out of Alfred's hands and whacked him across the face.

"OW!" Alfred put a hand on his abused cheek. "What was that for?"

"Wake up, idiot," Arthur hissed. "Quit moping about whatever. You know how much I hate it."

Seeing Alfred's hurt expression, his look softened. "This Saturday is going to be terrible if I don't have someone to guide me around, right?" Arthur said.

Alfred looked stunned for a moment before breaking into a grin. "I guess I got you into the spirit of this thing, huh?" he said. "I never would'a guessed."

Arthur laughed. "Shut it."

"Fine. But we're watching anime for another hour until the con starts!" He jumped up, much more excited, and started rummaging through his bag again.

"Hetalia?" Arthur picked up his costume and threw on the shirt.

"Is that what _you_ want to watch?"

"Possibly. You reckon there's an anime I'd like better?" The word 'anime' felt sounded strange coming off his tongue.

"Mmm…maybe. That's your choice." He placed a substantial stack of DVD's on the bed in front of Arthur. "There's only a couple comedies in there. The rest are, like, drama and fantasy and stuff."

"Alright." Arthur started looking through the pile. He picked up the first one and frowned. "Dr. Crap-Man?" he said.

Alfred laughed. "What?"

Arthur showed him the box. "Dr. Crap-Man."

"It says _D. Gray-Man_, genius," Alfred said, laughing harder.

"Right. Whatever. What's the genre?"

"Fantasy. I think you'd like it. It's about these people called 'exorcists' in England in the eighteenth century…"

Alfred continued like this for a while, telling Arthur about each anime he showed to him. There were so many of them, each with strange names: Inuyasha. Ouran High School Host Club. One Piece. Princess Tutu.

("You'd watch something called Princess Tutu?"

"Shut up. It's good, but I admit it needs a better title.")

Kuroshitsuji. Shugo Chara. Azumanga Daioh. Gravitation (this one Alfred quickly tossed back into his bag, explaining it was nothing).

By the time Alfred was done explaining, they only had a half-hour to watch something. Arthur picked up a DVD at random (Kuroshitsuji) and put it in. Alfred played the first episode.

This is how the conversation went:

"Wait a second, how does the beginning have anything to do with the rest of it?" (Arthur)

"Keep watching the series, you'll figure it out." (Alfred)

"So…this bloke with red eyes is the 12-year-old girl's servant?"

"Yeah. But that's a boy, not a girl."

"WHAT'S WITH HIS VOICE THEN?"

"12-year-olds generally have high voices."

"Not that high."

"Shh."

"…"

"…"

"Ciel Phantomhive. Why is the boy's first name French and last name English?"

"I don't _know_, Arthur. Can't you just watch without questioning?"

"Well, NO."

By the end they were laughing and poking fun at the show freely, Alfred having given up any sort of hope of getting Arthur to understand the story. Alfred looked at his watch. "Looks like we've effectively killed an hour," he said, pulling the disc out of the player.

"And I am ten times more educated on Japanese animation," Arthur said with a smile.

"But you only watched one!"

"Yes, but you did give me a description of all the other ones you have in your bag there. I'm sure that if I saw someone cosplaying one of the characters, I would recognize them."

Alfred turned around and cocked an eyebrow at him. "Is that a fact?" he said.

"Possibly. And-" Arthur held up the brown strap from his costume that had given him trouble the day before "-can you help me with this?"

"Yeah, sure." He stepped over and hooked the thing to Arthur's belt at the front. "I'll bet you won't be able to identify the anime if I point out a character to you."

Arthur pondered the decision a moment, as Alfred's hand slid over his shoulder. He grinned. "Fine. What are the conditions?"

"If I win…I get to teach you the art of glomping," Alfred said, biting his lip mischievously.

"What exactly is glomping?"

"That's something I'm going to teach you." He clipped the strap to the back of the belt and placed his hands on the other's waist.

"Only if you win," Arthur said.

"I will."

"Whatever you say, Alfred. If I win…" Arthur looked at the ceiling, deep in thought. "I'm choosing what costumes we wear for next year." He smiled, waiting for the American's reaction.

It took a while to cue in. When it finally did, Alfred's eyes widened. "Yay!" He hugged Arthur around the waist. "You're awesome, Artie!"

Arthur laughed. "You're welcome. Now let go of me and come on!" He walked out the door with a hyper Alfred behind him.

Arthur instinctively went for the elevator. Alfred pushed open the door to the stairs. "I'll race you," Alfred said.

Arthur nodded just as the elevator doors opened for him. "Go!" he said, stepping inside and watching the American take off down the stairs.

He silently willed the elevator to go faster. 36…35…34… it was still taking forever to pass each floor. He was sure five minutes passed when the doors opened onto the 14th floor and three cosplayers walked in.

"ENGLAND!" the first one shouted as soon as she laid eyes on him.

"France?" Arthur backed into the corner, a little disturbed by the random France cosplayer's reaction to seeing him.

She took Arthur's hands. "Will you marry me?" she said, seemingly in all earnestness.

Arthur blushed. "Er…no…" he said awkwardly, prying his hands loose.

She pouted. "Why not?"

It was obvious she was joking, but Arthur had no idea how to respond to her. "Erm…I'm taken…" he said, looking away and thinking of Alfred. This made him blush even more. Arthur glanced over France's shoulder – as the doors were closing – at the two other cosplayers that walked in behind her: Germany and Italy. The two young men were too absorbed in each other to notice him, though.

"Oh! So you already have a France you're here with? Where is she? Or he?"

"I'm not here with France, I'm here with America. He's waiting for me downstairs." Arthur loosened up a bit.

"NO!" she said, pounding the elevator wall and startling Italy. "He's only going to hurt you!"

She was being pretty intense for simple roleplay-smalltalk. Arthur thought of Alfred again. "No, he wouldn't, and you have no way of knowing that," he said. The doors opened to the ground floor and Alfred waiting right outside. "Because he's amazing." Arthur stepped out and walked right into Alfred.

"Who's amazing?" Alfred asked, looking – completely obliviously – into his eyes.

"Are you his America?" France said.

Alfred looked confused. "Uh…yeah, I guess I am."

"He said _you_'re amazing."

Arthur went beet red.

Alfred looked down at him. Arthur nodded, confirming France's statement.

Alfred grinned widely. "Well, what can I say? I'm America. I am amazing."

France crossed her arms. "See, England? America is a self-centered bastard with ego problems. You need _une Français_, Angleterre."

"Hey!" Alfred shouted loudly, pointing a finger at France and pulling Arthur to his side. "I disapprove of FrUK!"

_Fruke?_ Arthur wondered.

France raised an eyebrow, smile still playing on her features. "I disapprove of USUK," she countered.

Alfred narrowed his eyes, then widening them as he got an idea. "Well then, we'll let England decide." He swung Arthur around to face him. He shifted his eyes nervously. "You…you won't mind if it's just to prove France wrong…right?" he muttered.

Arthur knew what Alfred was talking about. He blushed. "Er…I guess not," he said. He quickly stammered out an excuse: "I-I don't really like France either…"

Alfred nodded and exhaled.

Arthur got a strange feeling in his stomach. Nervousness? No. It was far too intense to be just that. He watched as Alfred closed his eyes and leaned into him until he was too close to see clearly, at which point Arthur closed his eyes too. He felt their lips meet. Tentatively, at first, then more deeply as they got used to the incredible feeling. Alfred inhaled sharply and took Arthur's cheek in one hand. This time, Arthur felt his tongue snaking outwards to gain entrance to Alfred's mouth. His mind was telling him to stop, but his body and heart weren't letting him.

Now, Alfred, Arthur, France, Germany and Italy were standing in the middle of a lobby of a hotel. This hotel was dominated greatly at this time of day, and year, by cosplayers running about, taking pictures, and squealing. One girl noticed the two men making out indiscreetly and let out a loud screech. This was followed by more and more squeals until half the people in the lobby of that hotel were yelling at the top of their lungs.

It took 10 seconds of this for Alfred and Arthur to notice the noise, and an additional 5 seconds for them to finally break apart, withdrawing their tongues into their own mouths.

They stared each other down for a while, until the grand squeal subsided.

Alfred swallowed. "Wow…" he whispered.

Arthur smiled subtly in response. "That was a lot…just to prove a point," he said.

Alfred grinned back before turning to France. She looked speechless. "I think that'll clear that up," Alfred said cheerily.

She sighed. "Fine. But only because you two are so cute together."

They both blushed. "S-so shall we get going, then?" Arthur said.

"R-right," Alfred said awkwardly.

-

Italy was talking excitedly with Alfred and Germany was talking unenthusiastically with Arthur. France was skipping in front of them. All five of them were wandering the outside of the main convention building, and Italy was speaking. "Us Hetalia guys are here in a group, you know," he said. "We're just outside the place where the dance-rave thing was going on yesterday, if you wanna join. We have like, four Americas but just two other Englands, and the Englands are here with each other. You know, like self-cest."

Alfred nodded. "Huh." He was only half paying attention, still a little shocked – even after 10 minutes – from kissing Arthur the way he did. It certainly didn't help his little morning dilemma about his feelings. "Hey, Italy, mind if I ask you a random question?" he said.

"Yeah, go ahead."

"Er…" he leaned in closer so Arthur and Germany wouldn't hear what they were saying. "What do me and Arthur look like to you guys?"

"Huh? You mean like, relationship-wise?" he whispered back.

"Yeah."

"Well, okay. This is probably wrong, but…you seem like you met through cosplay and like, fell for each other a while ago…or something. At least, that was my first impression. But if you want to know, ask France. She's a pro on that kinda stuff."

Alfred blushed. Until yesterday's incident with Russia, he had never considered the slightest thought of him and Arthur as lovers. And hearing someone support the idea…_Well,_ he thought, _I guess seeing the two people in question make out for half a minute would do that…_

He opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself when he noticed Arthur's sudden presence by his side. "Alfred," he said, tugging on the sleeve of his bomber jacket.

"Hmm?"

Arthur pointed to someone in front of him. "Sebastian."

Alfred looked at the cosplayer he was pointing at. It was, indeed, Sebastian from Kuroshitsuji. He broke into a grin. "Yeah."

Arthur smiled back. "I told you I could do it."

"No, you said you'd be able to identify anyone from _any_ of the DVD's I had there," Alfred said. He spotted a group coming from the other direction. "Like these guys. You remember the deal? Name the anime."

Arthur bit his lip. "Shit," he whispered. He was sure he recognized the blue school blazers from somewhere on one of the DVD cases, he just couldn't remember the titles. They were all so long and nonsensical. "Er…Azumanga something-or-other?" he said.

Alfred laughed. "Nope," he said. "I w-"

"Shogo Chera?" Arthur guessed again, cutting him off.

"No, again. Somethin' tells me you lost this one," Alfred said, "If you can't even remember the titles right."

Arthur pouted. "It's not my fault I don't speak Japanese."

They arrived in front of an area of grass dominated by bright-coloured flags and equally bright costumes. Arthur started to walk towards the Hetalia group, but Alfred steered him away.

"We'll come join you guys in a bit, 'kay?" he said to Italy.

"Sure," Italy replied, winking and catching up to Germany.

"What are we going to do?" Arthur asked.

"What I told you I'd do if I won." He had a mischievous look on his face.

"And what was that?"

"I'm going to teach you the art of glomping."


	10. The Art of Glomping

Arthur suddenly recalled a scene from a movie he and Alfred had watched together at some point. There had been a guy staring into a gaping hole and saying "I've got a bad feeling about this…" and that's just what Arthur felt like saying at the moment. "Glomping," he said, feeling the word roll awkwardly off his tongue.

Alfred snickered. "I'm sure you'll love it," he said. They kept walking around the building until they got to a parking lot full of cosplayers and empty of cars. "Allow me to demonstrate." He looked around at the mob of people, seemingly searching for someone.

Arthur knew the exact moment when Alfred had found them. His blue eyes brightened as they locked on to something. Arthur turned around to see who or what it was. He followed the American's gaze to a rather short person (Arthur couldn't tell if it was a guy or a girl) dressed completely in green. Alfred grinned mischievously. "Watch carefully," he said to Arthur, patting him on the shoulder before backing up.

Arthur watched, mystified, as his companion took off in a sprint towards the green-clad person. He heard Alfred shout "LINK!" which got the person's attention just as Alfred crashed into them in a huge bear hug, nearly knocking the person (whom Arthur could now see was a girl) to the ground.

After a few seconds, Alfred released her, then babbling to her a mile a minute. She was nodding and talking a little in reply. From where he was, Arthur couldn't hear what either of them was saying. After about a minute, he started walking back towards Arthur, waving goodbye to the girl.

"And that," Alfred said, stopping in front of Arthur, "Is how you glomp."

Arthur stared at him. "I hope it's the talking part, and not the hug-tackling."

Alfred laughed. "Dream on," he said. "Now it's your turn."

"No bloody way," he deadpanned. "You taught me, I've learnt. We're done here."

He started to walk away, but Alfred grabbed his arm. "Oh no you don't," he said. "You're gonna pick someone and glomp them right now."

Arthur cringed. "I have to?"

"Yup." Alfred grinned.

Arthur groaned loudly. "I don't know any of these people. Or what their costumes are. What if they ask me something? I would have no bloody idea what to say."

"You gotta point," Alfred said, biting his lip. "We'll do what we learned to do in history. Zee art of compromise," he said, imitating their history teacher.

"How about skipping the whole glomp thing?" Arthur suggested hopefully.

"Yeah, nice try, but no." Alfred looked up, seemingly searching for an answer in the cloudless blue sky.

"Well, have you got any other ideas?"

"Yeah," Alfred said.

Arthur waited for him to continue. "Well?"

"I lied."

Arthur rolled his eyes. He looked around at the cosplayers, noticing the various colours of hair, spandex, and cat ears; and the uncanny number of people wearing headbands with metal plates on them. His gaze moved back to Alfred's contemplative face. He got an idea.

"How about this," he started. Alfred looked at him. "I glomp _you_. That way, I 'learn the art of glomping'," he said, attempting to imitate Alfred's accent, "but I won't get interrogated and then embarrass myself…completely."

Alfred stared at him with a strange look on his face before breaking out into a grin. "Sounds good to me," he said. "Just one thing…" he trailed off.

"Yes?"

"Er…can you do that accent again?" He was blushing.

Arthur gave him a sideways grin. "Not for very long. It doesn't feel like I'm speaking English," he said, in an accent so American that Alfred might have mistaken Arthur for himself.

-

Alfred felt heat rush through his body. He couldn't really explain why. Something about hearing Arthur speak the way he did, then switching back to his normal way of speaking made Alfred shiver. It made him remember how much he loved Arthur's accent. He shook, trying to get a hold of himself.

"So anyways!" Alfred exclaimed. "I'm gonna back up to that cement thing full of wood chips" – he pointed to a cement thing full of wood chips – "and you're just gonna come sprinting at me and yelling my name. Nothing to it."

"Right…" Arthur said, starting to back away to give him a good amount of space to run. "Nothing to it."

"Good luck!" Alfred said, winking and giving him a thumbs-up.

Arthur scowled at him. He laughed.

Alfred backed up so he was facing away from the cement thing full of wood chips, so if he fell, it wouldn't be on concrete. He watched as the Brit stretched his arms awkwardly, stalling. Arthur took a breath. The strip of red across his face was unmistakeably a blush. After what seemed like ages, he finally took off running.

"A…AMERICA!" Arthur shouted as he ran. It was all Alfred could do to not burst out laughing out of pure pity. He looked so embarrassed. His eyes were squinted, his face beet red and his head tilted down to avoid eye contact with anyone.

Alfred giggled a bit, holding his arms open and waiting for Arthur. Arthur took a flying leap from about a metre away, going hands-first towards him. Alfred grunted as Arthur nearly choked him with his arms before latching tightly onto any part of Alfred that he could get to. They ended up toppling backwards into the wood chips, Arthur on top.

Alfred was dazed for a while. He hadn't expected Arthur to jump that forcefully. He gradually became aware of his surroundings; Arthur's hands tangled around his neck, Arthur's hair against his cheek, Arthur's quiet, deep panting, the glare of the sun reflected in Arthur's forest green eyes, Arthur's knee shoved against his groin, Arthur, Arthur, _Arthur_…

Alfred bit his lip in an attempt to avoid bucking into the other's leg. Alfred raised his head as Arthur slowly raised himself up on his arms. Unfortunately for Alfred, Arthur's thigh stayed in its suggestive position between his legs. He moved to sit up to get it dislodged, but…

"Stay where you are!" An unfamiliar female voice ordered squeakily. Alfred stilled obediently.

Alfred and Arthur, confused, looked towards the source of the voice just as a camera flashed in their faces, temporarily blinding them both. This was followed by several other flashes, as well as several high-pitched squeals, originating from all around them. Arthur looked back down and caught Alfred's eye, looking flustered and blushing vividly.

Alfred gave him an apologetic look. "Fangirls," he whispered, just loud enough for Arthur to hear. He rolled his eyes and gave him a half-hearted smile.

The cameras kept going for a few seconds more. When the crowd of hyper fangirls finally dispersed, Arthur exhaled and stood, finally allowing Alfred to stand up. He lifted his back off the uncomfortable bed of wood chips. Alfred dusted the dirt from the '50' on the back of his jacket, trying to process what had happened so fast.

First, Arthur had glomped him. It was a freaking amazing glomp too, one that allowed almost no space between them. Those were the best kinds. Alfred hadn't had the chance to hug him back; he had been toppled over too quickly. He remembered having briefly felt some kind of pain when he fell, but it had been dulled by the pleasant sensation of Arthur's leg landing where it did.

He looked at his palms. Sure enough, there was a rather long piece of wood shoved deeply into his right hand, and a thin stream of blood trickled from it.

"Alfred?" Arthur said.

Alfred looked up at him questioningly.

The Brit held his hand out to him. "Never make me do that again." The words were serious, but his tone was light and there was a smile playing on his features.

Alfred grinned and took Arthur's hand in his uninjured one, standing up with the other's help. "So that's the verdict, then?"

Arthur nodded simply. He didn't release Alfred's hand.

"But, dude, you were amazing!" Alfred protested, squeezing the palm tightly in encouragement.

"Is there really a difference between a good 'glomp' and a bad one?" Arthur said.

"Well," Alfred started, holding up the hand that wasn't in Arthur's. "You ca-"

"Bloody hell Alfred, what happened to your hand?" Arthur grabbed the hand with the wood sticking out of it. It now had a generous stream of blood coming out, and part of the wood was stained red.

"Oh, I, er…didn't expect you to jump that fast or that hard…so I kinda just impaled my hand on the wood…" he scratched the back of his head with his now-free hand.

Arthur cocked an eyebrow at him.

"I…I didn't even notice it hurt."

"You've got a one-inch thick piece of wood stuck inside of you, making you _bleed_, and you didn't notice it."

(Alfred bit back a "that's what she said". Arthur hated it when they didn't work.)

Arthur sighed. "Hold still," he said, holding Alfred's palm steady in one hand and reaching for the wood with the other. He tugged on it.

"Ow! Hell, Arthur!" Alfred jerked his hand away.

"Just hold still," Arthur replied, as if speaking to a child. "It'll only hurt for a second."

Alfred winced as Arthur yanked hard on the thing, successfully dislodging the annoying object from his palm, but causing blood to pool disgustingly fast in his palm.

"Ugh," Arthur said, chucking the wood aside and reeling at the sight of the other's wound. He shuddered.

Alfred laughed. "You sure _you're_ not the gayer one here, buddy?"

Arthur scowled. "Shut it," he said, pulling a package of Kleenex from his pocket, removing a sheet, and setting to work mopping up the scarlet mess.

Alfred relaxed into Arthur's delicate touch, staring at his slightly blanched face. His substantial eyebrows were furrowed together in concentration even doing such a simple task as wiping blood. His hair – which hadn't been cut in a while, Alfred noticed – was falling in front of his vivid eyes, hiding the better part of them. Alfred inched a little closer, his free hand subconsciously coming up to brush the locks out of Arthur's face.

Arthur looked up, questioning look on his face.

Alfred shrugged and smiled fondly at him.

"Hold this," Arthur said, handing Alfred the bloodied Kleenex and lowering his head to hide the light dusting of pink on his cheeks.

As Arthur reached into his pocket for a second time, Alfred looked down to check how bad the wound was. There was a jagged red line in an off-shaped circle in the centre of his palm. He wiggled his fingers, observing at the odd figure. He held his hand up.

"Doesn't it look like a heart?" he said.

Arthur looked up, a band-aid in his hand. "Sure, Alfred. Now give me that." He took Alfred's hand back and started peeling the back off the band-aid.

"You're like a walking first aid kit, man. I mean, not even chicks carry band-aids in their pockets," Alfred said, trying to distract himself from the tingly feel of Arthur's fingers against his palm.

Arthur finished smoothing down the adhesive. "Well, you better be thankful I'm prepared, otherwise you would have passed out from lack of blood," Arthur retorted with a grin.

"Touché." Alfred winked. He took Arthur's hand. "Now let's go back. You've fulfilled your end of the deal and I wanna talk to some other Americas."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Of course." He squeezed Alfred's band-aided palm back, starting after him in the direction of the ocean of nations.

Alfred smiled at the unspoken agreement between them; the fact that Arthur would accept the simple gesture of holding his hand without question or complaint. Perhaps it was simply the event that they were, for the weekend, two nations in a special relationship. Perhaps (and Alfred found himself hoping so) it was foreshadowing for something much, much more. Either way, Alfred realized that someone even as shallow as himself could see the symbolism of a single heart clasped between two peoples' hands.


	11. The Rule of Cosplay

Alfred and Arthur weaved their way through the crowd, which was getting thicker as the morning wore on bringing with it the scalding hot of a summer afternoon.

"Ew, dude, I'm sweating!" Alfred said, undoing the top button of the military jacket, which was under his other jacket.

Arthur just nodded, feeling the heat as well. There was moisture starting to build up around his neck, under the soles of his feet, and between his and Alfred's hands. "Alfred," he said. "I d-"

"America," Alfred said.

"…What about him?"

"Rule number one of cosplay: never use the cosplayer's real name. Call me America."

Arthur frowned. "Alright, America," he corrected himself, feeling awkward saying it that way. "I was just going to say, I don't know much about cosplay, but I'm sure that rule number two is not to complain about your costume and therefore, the heat." He wanted to complain about the sun that was sure to be giving him sunburn and the sweat soaking through the dress shirt and the odd scent of heated asphalt and the lack of cloud cover and the- _I should practice what I preach,_ he thought, trying to ignore the temperature.

"I know, I know, but…" Alfred scratched the back of his head with his free hand. "Whatever. Next time we go into the dealer's room I'm getting one of the massive fans they have."

The pair finally got to what they decided to refer to as simply 'the field', where all 40-odd Hetalia cosplayers were sitting, shouting, talking, and waving flags. Alfred skimmed the crowd, searching for any of the three 'nations' they had met in the morning. He spotted Italy waving a giant German flag, with Germany looking on with (oddly) Italy's white flag in hand. France was frantically running around in circles for no apparent reason. He heard Arthur laugh beside him, probably having spotted the trio as well.

"Let's-a go!" Alfred said, imitating (unbeknownst to Arthur) Mario's accent. He started skipping, dragging Arthur along behind him.

"Christ, Alf- _America_, would you stop being so bloody hyper?" he stumbled across the grass, nearly kicking an unfamiliar nation in the head.

"Nope!" he said cheerily, jumping to a halt near Italy, whose back was turned to him.

"Hey lookie! It's zee lovebirds!" France exclaimed, teetering on her feet a bit from spinning.

Alfred and Arthur shared a flustered glance before turning back to her.

"Yeah, yeah," Alfred said, grinning hugely, the wavering voice only audible to Arthur.

Italy turned around, Arthur having to shove Alfred's head down so he wouldn't get beamed in the head with the flagpole.

"_Amici_!" he shouted, smiling and handing the giant flag to Germany. "You haven't met our new friends yet! Come with me~" he grabbed them by their arms, dislodging their hands. They allowed themselves to be turned around and led to five new people.

"Hey guys I found the America and England I was talking about! Aren't they so awesome?" Italy said. He released their arms.

"Not as awesome as me!" one of them said, standing up.

Arthur racked his brain trying to figure out who it was. _White hair…_ he thought. _You'd think I'd remember…_

Alfred just smirked. "Sure, whatever." He looked over at Arthur and saw the confusion in his face. "Oh and by the way guys, England here watched Hetalia for the first time yesterday. Just sayin'."

Arthur nodded. He turned to the white-haired person (who neither Arthur nor Alfred could tell the sex of). "Who are you again?" he asked them.

The other four that Italy had introduced them to muffled their laughter behind their palms. Arthur frowned, feeling flustered.

One of them – who he recognized as Latvia – noticed it. "Oh, we're not laughing at you," she said. "But at '_Awesome_' over here."

"Shut up Latvia," 'Awesome' said. "I might just go let every one of the Belaruses loose on you."

Alfred giggled to himself. "Anyways, guys, you have quite possibly the most random group I've seen. Seriously: Latvia, Norway, Japan, Prussia, and…" he looked at the last member of the group and grinned. "…and you." He winked.

"Well…they just seemed to suit our heights and personalities and stuff," the one Alfred had winked at said.

"Yeah, you know, like Prussia is awesome and so am I," White Hair said.

Okay. So now Arthur knew that Awesome was Prussia. Noticing the nation Alfred had skipped over, he took in the coat, the bear, the distinguishable curly piece of hair… "You're Canada!" he said, snapping his fingers in triumph.

"Whoa! Whoa! So you remember this guy, of all people-" Prussia pulled Canada to her feet. "-and not me?"

Arthur shrugged. "What Alf…America said. Besides, I only remember Canada because he's the one that's always forgotten."

There was an amused silence for a moment as Arthur realized the irony of the situation.

He laughed, and the other six – seven, including Italy who had started to walk away – joined in. "Brilliant," he said.

"Right! So that was your introduction," Alfred said. "I believe ours is pretty obvious. I'm the hero, and this is my England." He slung his arm around Arthur's shoulder.

"Wait…what?" Canada said.

Alfred just laughed. "Yup."

Arthur just wondered when it had been established that he was _his_ England, and was about to say so, but bit it back when he discovered he didn't hate it. He blushed. _In fact…_ he thought. _I don't mind at all…_

"So whatcha guys planning to do all day?" Alfred asked, sitting down and pulling Arthur with him.

They looked at each other. "Uh…" they said collectively.

Norway, who hadn't spoken yet, took charge. "Are you guys yaoi fans or…"

"Shit YES," Alfred said. "What about it?"

_I have got a VERY bad feeling about where this is going,_ Arthur thought. _Isn't yaoi that thing…_

"Well in about an hour we're going to a panel for it. It's in the con book thing, you guys have one?" Norway continued.

"England?" Alfred said, turning to him.

"It's in our room," Arthur replied.

"Oh. Well that's okay. It's the Gay Sex 101 panel."

If Arthur had been drinking something at that moment, it would have ended up all over Prussia's and Canada's faces. His face sort of contorted into a bunch of different expressions at the same time and the colour couldn't decide whether to stay in his cheeks or rush out of them. He tried to shake himself. "Aren't you-"

He was cut off by Alfred's hand over his mouth. "You know this is probably the only place in the world where you can say that like that without getting weird looks?" Alfred grinned, turning to Arthur and telling him with his eyes to _not say anything_. He removed his hand.

Canada laughed. "Very true," she said.

"Anyways, I normally would be up for it, but…well, England here…" Alfred gave him an all-knowing grin.

Arthur shifted uncomfortably.

"Mhm…" Prussia said, smiling perversely. "So he learns by doing, and not seeing." Prussia waggled his/her eyebrows.

"Oh God," Arthur said, laughing weakly and putting his head in his hands.

Someone wolf howled behind them. "C'est très _zexuel_, ça. Bonjour, les anglophones."

"Hello France," Latvia said. "We were just talking about the awesomest panel in the world, in case you missed it."

"Ah, but of course~" France said. "Will you guys be going?"

Arthur looked up. "Well…that's not really what I'm…into, you know?" he said, trying to sound as open-minded as possible.

"Oh. You guys aren't there yet?"

"No, we're not even…"

"_ENGLAND._" Alfred said in a warning tone.

"…in a relationship." Arthur finished, ignoring him.

"?" the five other nations said.

France gaped. "WHHAAAAAAAAAATTT?" she shouted, making anyone within a 50-meter radius stop and look at her. "BUT YOU- THE- HUH?" she paused for a moment, as if deciding what to do next. She turned around. "ITALY!" she ran off towards him.

"WELL then," Alfred said awkwardly. Now that that's cleared up…"

Everyone just stared at him.

Arthur sighed. _Well I made this weird, time to try to undo it…_

"So what's that polar bear for?" he asked Canada.

"Oh, Kumakitchi?" she said, starting to smile.

Japan spoke up for the first time. "You know it's Kuma_jiro_, right?"

"I can actually never remember which one is accurate…"

"Nice. Of course you wouldn't," Alfred said, smiling. He shot a thankful glance at Arthur.

Arthur smiled back. _Good._

-

"There is no way that should be happening!" France had calmed down slightly, and was pacing around beside Italy, who had resumed waving the giant German flag.

France stopped moving for a moment. "Have you _seen_ how they look at each other? There's no way those two being apart for a moment should be _legal_!" She resumed her pacing. "They are so freaking madly in love. I notice these kinds of things. And it's so obvious!"

"You're going OOC," Italy warned. "But yes, I thought they were lovers as well. And I'll even go so far as to say there's definitely something that should be happening between them. But they're just going to have to figure that out on their own." He looked to Germany, who just nodded in agreement.

"That may be true. But. I am _La France_, and _La France_ is _le pays de l'amour_. So my goal is now to get those two idiot Anglophones together by the end of this convention!" she put her fist in the air.

Italy stopped waving the flag and took Germany's hand in his own. He smiled at France. "You go do that."


	12. The Pocky Game

Hey guys! Haru-shira here~

Just wanted to say thanks for all your awesome reviews. They really mean a lot to me. Anyways, sorry for taking so long to update this. I have to find time in my limited internet access to upload in between social things and cosplay stuff and everything… yeah. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

"Hey do you guys know what time it is?" Alfred looked around, eyes settling on Japan – whose nature was a lot like Kiku's – the most likely to carry a watch.

They had been talking aimlessly (mostly in character) for what _seemed_ like an hour now. The sun had gotten higher and the heat more intense. Alfred could see the sweat glistening on Arthur's and the others' foreheads, yet no one complained once. He pitied Canada in her huge winter jacket.

"It's 10:30," Japan said.

"…Is it really still the morning?" Arthur said. He squinted upwards, and everyone else nodded in understanding. "And we've only been here for about a half hour." He whistled.

"So…anything cool we have to do?" Prussia, who had started making a pile of yanked-out grass, said.

"Well…I kinda want a snack…" Alfred said. "I haven't really eaten since dinner yesterday."

"I have some Pocky," Japan suggested quietly.

Alfred watched as Arthur frowned in confusion. Arthur turned to face him just in time to see his eyes go disbelievingly wide and his mouth open into a bit of a smile. "Guys," Alfred said, giving Arthur the familiar feeling that something weird was about to happen. "My England has never played the Pocky game."

The other five countries gaped at him.

Prussia stood up and pointed at Arthur intensely. "MEIN GOTT DO IT NOW!"

"U-uh…" Arthur said. "What exactly is this thing…?"

Japan pulled a couple of what looked like pink yogurt-covered sticks out of a box that said simply 'Pocky' on it. "Allow Latvia and Norway to demonstrate," she said, handing them one.

Alfred put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Oh, you're gonna love this," he whispered in his ear, the wind from his breath making Arthur shudder.

"I'm sure I will…" he trailed off.

He watched as Norway put one end of the stick in her mouth, and gave the other end to Latvia, who put it in her mouth. Italy, who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere with France beside him, took a seat between the two nations facing off. "Ready…set…go!" Italy said.

The two started munching at the stick at an alarming speed, and when they got close to each other, Latvia twisted away.

"Norway wins!" Italy said excitedly.

"Aaannddd…that's the Pocky game!" Prussia and Alfred said at the same time. Alfred continued. "In case you didn't catch it, the first person who turns away loses."

"Alright," Arthur said. "I see. But I don't see why it's so special."

Canada facepalmed. "Has he ever even _seen_ Pocky before?" she asked Alfred.

He shook his head. "England is an otaku as of yesterday." He pointed to Arthur's convention pass, which said 'Weekend Otaku'.

Arthur turned to Alfred, completely confused. "When we go to lunch later, you're explaining this entire culture to me," he muttered between his teeth.

_Right,_ Alfred thought. _Arthur doesn't even know what an otaku is._ He nodded with a smile.

"Well!" France said, jumping out of nowhere. "I think _l'Angleterre_ and _l'Amérique_ should have a try now, _non_?"

"Fine with me," Alfred said, shrugging. "England, you get how it works, right?"

"Yes I do."

"Well then, Japan, I believe we need another one of those Pockys."

"Hey wait. Can I actually try one of those before we start competing for it?"

Japan nodded, handing him one.

Arthur smiled as a thank-you. "Sorry we're stealing a bunch of your – er – Pocky." The word felt weird coming off his tongue.

He took a bite of the pink end of it. It wasn't yogurt, it was…

A LOT better. He took another bite, wanting to get the taste of that strawberry-coated goodness back on his tongue. He wasn't big on sweets, but this was different.

"Aww~!" he heard a few voices say. He looked up to see everyone staring at him oddly. "What is it?" he said through a small mouthful of Pocky.

"It's kinda hard to explain…"

"You've got this look…"

"I think you're blushing…"

"It's Pocky, it's awesome, we know…"

"What the others said…"

Arthur cocked an eyebrow, not being able to tell whose voice was whose. He turned to Alfred, who was biting his lip and slightly flushed.

"You just look so _freaking_ adorable eating that thing!" he said, hugging Arthur close to him.

"Oi, who's 'adorable'?" Arthur said, blushing and struggling in the Alfred's grasp.

"Tsundere!" the others shouted.

Arthur sighed. He'd never understand what the hell cosplayers were talking about. He finished his Pocky stick and subconsciously reached for another one out of Japan's box.

"Hey!" someone slapped his hand. "Play zee game already!"

Oh. So it was France.

"Right, right. Okay, here goes." Japan handed Alfred another Pocky as he released Arthur from the hug.

"Um, no, please just wait one second." Japan stood up. She whispered in France's ear. "I'm going to get Hungary. She has a camera."

"Oh-hon-hon-hon…" France laughed, in her own weird French way.

Japan came back about a minute later with a girl holding a frying pan, who Arthur recognized as Hungary.

He waved in greeting, and she waved the frying pan back. "Now play the game!" she commanded them.

Arthur nodded and stuck the more flavourful end in his mouth.

"Hey, why do you get that side?" Alfred complained.

"Oh shut it." Arthur grinned as best he could with the thing in his mouth.

Alfred rolled his eyes and grabbed the other end between his teeth. "Italy?" he said awkwardly.

"Ready…set…go!"

And the two started off munching at full speed, which was hard for Arthur, who enjoyed savouring his food rather than wolfing it down like the American did. They got near the middle of the stick and…it broke in half.

"Dammit!" Alfred said, finishing of the rest of his side.

"I presume that's a tie?" Arthur asked, munching on his own.

"No. That means it was a fail and we do it over again."

Arthur shrugged. "Sure. But…" he looked at Japan, who was counting her remaining Pockys. "We should buy poor Japan another box when we go back into the Dealer's room."

Japan looked at him gratefully and handed Alfred a second stick.

Alfred claimed the strawberry-drenched side that time, blinking at Arthur innocently.

"Oh, whatever," Arthur said, chomping down on the bare stick.

Italy stood up. "Ready?"

They both nodded as best as they could.

"Set…"

Alfred and Arthur stared each other down, narrowing their eyes.

"Go!"

They started off, not pulling their gazes away until they were too close to focus. Arthur glanced down at the Pocky, seeing that there was only a couple centimetres left of it. He lunged forward with his mouth, trying to get the last piece. Alfred lunged forward as well, which ended up with their lips crashing together in a full, open-mouthed kiss. Though all that the competitors noticed was that half of what was left of the Pocky ended up in each of their mouths and it didn't break.

Alfred giggled and grunted in the effort of stealing the piece out of Arthur's mouth with his tongue. Arthur parried, shielding the rapidly-disintegrating stick with a snicker. Alfred grabbed the back of Arthur's neck in an effort to get deeper into his mouth.

France leaned over to Prussia's ear. "Is the Pocky even still there…?" she said. "Right now it just looks like they're making out for the hell of it."

"I don't think that goes with Con policy…" Canada whispered, smiling. "They tell us all to keep it PG-13."

"_Toute est juste en amour et en guerre_, France said contentedly.

"What does that even mean?" Prussia asked.

Canada stood up between them. "All's fair in love and war," she translated. "…Oddly, this is both."

"You speak _le Français_?" France asked, surprised.

Canada frowned, as if it should have been obvious. "I _am_ Canada…"

"_Je t'aime_," France told her.

"HEY!" Prussia shouted from the other side of Canada. "Mein Kanada!"

They narrowed their eyes at each other.

"Guys…" Canada sighed.

By then, Alfred's glasses had moved to the top of his head and Arthur's arms to Alfred's shoulders. They finally pulled apart, gasping frantically for air but laughing madly at the same time.

Hungary stood up and hid the camera behind her back, sidling over to Japan. "22 photos in 57 seconds," she whispered to her. Japan nodded with a smile. "Check Facebook in an hour," Hungary said before walking away to where she was before.

-

"So I guess I win, huh?" Alfred said, once they'd managed to regain their breath. Alfred had put his glasses back on, after having taken them off because of how close he was getting to Arthur.

They were leaning their foreheads against each other and their hands were still where they had been before – Alfred's on the back of Arthur's neck, Arthur's on Alfred's shoulders.

"In your dreams," Arthur replied. "But I'm not quite ready for a tiebreaker." They both laughed.

"Good game?" Alfred said with a smile.

"Good game." He smiled back.

They stared at each other for a few moments.

"Your eyes are so epically bright green," Alfred said, squinting.

"You've told me that before."

Alfred giggled lightly and closed his eyes. Arthur did the same.

France scooted over to Italy – who was now holding Germany's hand again – and whispered in his ear. "See what I mean? _Friends_ don't do that, do they?"

Italy just nodded and shook his head. "What the hell."

"My leg is falling asleep," Alfred said, breaking their silence.

Arthur opened his eyes and smiled, uncrossed his legs and stood up, taking a stretch. He extended his hand to Alfred, who took it gratefully. Arthur noticed he still had the band-aid on. It seemed like hours since he had fallen on top of Alfred in a glomp earlier that day – accidentally giving him the heart-shaped wound – when it had probably only been about 50 minutes.

The convention made it seem like time was slowing down.

"Hey guys," Norway said, looking at Japan's watch. "We should get going for the panel."

"Ah, oui!" France said, clapping gleefully. "Italie et l'Allemagne! Are you coming?"

Italy looked at Germany. "Do you want to?" he asked. "It's not like we don't already know how it works and all that-mmph!" Germany slapped a hand over his companion's mouth. "Italy…" he said in a warning tone, obviously blushing.

"I'm sorry Doitsu…" Italy said once Germany had removed his hand.

Germany sighed and took his hand. "It's okay, Italy. Now let's go to that panel."

Italy stood there for a moment in silence before breaking out into a wide grin. "I love you, Germany!"

Germany blushed visibly. "I love you too," he whispered, only for Italy to hear.

Alfred looked happily at their slowly retreating backs. "Isn't that awesome?" he said to Arthur.

"What?"

"That they can love each other like that." He smiled and turned to Arthur. "Don't you think?"

"Yeah, it sort of is." He looked back at the American.

"This is gonna sound really sappy coming from me, but…I hope I find someone that can adore me as much as that Germany adores Italy. If that made any sense to ya."

Arthur opened his mouth, debating whether or not to say what he wanted to say. He threw caution to the wind. "Well, that someone is probably a lot closer than you may think." He averted his eyes, hoping to not give himself away.

Alfred smiled and ruffled Arthur's hair with one hand, putting the other arm around his shoulders affectionately. "You rock, man."

Arthur leaned into the other, looking to the sky and wishing to whoever was up there that they'd never take away whatever feeling it was that he and Alfred were experiencing at that very moment.

TBC.


	13. The Awkward Moment

"So now what?" Alfred said, leaning on Arthur and breaking their contented silence.

Arthur spun them around to face the convention building. "Now we go find a load of that Pocky stuff." He started to walk off.

Alfred chuckled, took his arm away from Arthur's shoulders, and followed behind.

-

Looking around, Alfred realized there was nothing more awesome than where he was now. _Not even Prussia._ He chuckled at his overused joke, making Arthur turn around out of curiosity.

"What is it?" he said.

Alfred shook his head. "Just look around."

Arthur looked around, still confused. "I see…grass covered in cosplayers, cosplayers covered in grass…and a whole lot of animal ears."

"I know, right? Isn't it perfect?" he said, smiling.

Arthur snickered to himself. "Since when were you the sentimental type?" he muttered, thinking it was quiet enough so that Alfred wouldn't hear.

"Hey!" Alfred said, turning to face the Brit directly. He poked him playfully in the chest. "It's _your_ fault I'm like this. For some reason."

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" Arthur said.

"I have no idea. Let's go get that Pocky." He kept walking.

"Alright…" Arthur trailed off, equally as confused as he had been before.

Alfred took a breath. He had been kind of out of it when he'd said what he did, but it was kinda true. _Like, this morning in the hotel room…after having that weird-ass dream…and earlier with the whole hand-holding thing…_ he thought. _Well, whatever. Maybe coming out just does that to people._ He shrugged and resumed his normal otaku-fuelled train of thought.

"So ya know there's like 20 flavours of Pocky, right?" he said.

"No I did not know that. Like what, for example?"

Alfred held back a giggle. Arthur was actually intrigued by the stuff. "Um…I think the most out there one is lychee. But there's vanilla, chocolate, strawberry – which is the one you had – almond, um…milk…and other random flavours."

The duo turned into the convention building, the pleasant sensation of the air-conditioning hitting them full in the face.

"Aw, man that feels good…" Alfred said, stopping in his tracks and feeling the coolness rush over his sweaty body.

Arthur nodded, feeling equally grateful for being out of the sun. "But you'd better move, as you're standing in front of the entrance." As he said it, a giant brown box with eyes tried to squeeze in the doorway behind Alfred. Arthur watched it hobble past him curiously as Alfred sidled over to him.

"What is that thing?" Arthur said.

"Dude, it's DOMO."

Arthur scoffed. "Excuse me?" he said. As if he were supposed to know what a Domo was.

"Yeah, to be honest, I don't really know where Domo comes from. He's just otaku-fully famous for being Domo. Now quit stalling and let's go get that Pocky!" He grabbed Arthur by the hand and started dragging him to the dealers' room.

Arthur felt himself flush bright red. _Wha…? Why am I…? Why now…_

"Whoa." Alfred said, stopping suddenly for about the hundredth time since they started walking.

"What now?" He sighed.

"Do you feel that?" he asked, turning around. Arthur noticed that Alfred's cheeks were about as red as his own – well, what they felt like.

"…What?" he repeated.

"Here." Alfred moved their hands – still clasped – upwards (making Arthur's red cheeks even more apparent) and rested Arthur's palm on his chest, where his heart was.

Arthur focused his attention on his palm. He didn't feel much at first. Then Alfred shifted their hands slightly to the left…

_B-dmp._

_B-dmp b-dmp b-dmp b-dmp b-dmp b-dmp b-dmp…_

Arthur's eyes widened as he noticed how abnormally fast Alfred's heartbeat was. He glanced up to the other's face. "What is…?"

Strangely, Alfred laughed. "I dunno. Something's going a bit crazy in there." He looked back to Arthur.

"Well…are you alright?"

Alfred smiled. Arthur looked truly concerned for him. "I feel fine. Actually…" he bit his lip. "Really, really fine." He subconsciously clutched Arthur's hand closer to his chest, expression turning serious.

Arthur held Alfred's gaze wordlessly, taking a small step forward. Alfred did the same.

"What's happening here…?" Alfred whispered for only Arthur to hear.

"I have no idea," Arthur whispered back.

They could hear each other's soft, slow breathing, a sharp contrast against the feeling of Alfred's blood pulsing at hyperspeed.

Arthur's eyes were the first to flutter shut. He was now blind to the outside world, knowing – yet not entirely sure of – what would come next. Then came the now-familiar yet still new and unique feeling of Alfred's lips brushing against his own.

It was quick and chaste, but full of endless amounts of unspoken and confused feelings.

They opened their eyes at the same time, each about to say something – until they realized that there was someone standing near them.

Alfred jumped about a meter in the air, letting go of Arthur's hand in shock. "Jeez, Kiku, way to make an entrance there!" he said, face still flushed.

Arthur also flinched at the Japanese boy's presence, as well as the presence of a camera in his hand.

"S-sorry Alfred-san…and Arthur-san," he stuttered, bowing, visibly embarrassed. "I did not recognise you until after I took a picture."

Alfred and Arthur shared an awkward look. "Er…it's okay, I guess," Alfred said. "Can I see it?"

Kiku nodded, turning on his fancy-looking camera and showing them the last picture. Arthur squinted at it, blushing and avoiding eye contact with the American. It may have just been the photo quality, but it seemed as though they had been captured in a – for lack of a better term – picture perfect moment. He cocked an eyebrow, noticing the image's similarity to…

"Hey Kiku, it looks like the cover of that doujinshi I got from you," Alfred said, apparently noticing what Arthur had seen as well.

Kiku smiled slightly. "_Hai._ That is why I wanted to take picture of you."

"Kay that's cool with me," Alfred said. "But…" he pursed his lips and gave Arthur a timid sideways glance.

Arthur just shrugged and looked away. "Alright," he mumbled. Then he turned to Kiku. "Nice costume, by the way." They all paused to take in Kiku's red ripped vest and jean shorts, the straw hat (which was quite fitting to the small Japanese man), and the odd little Sharpie job underneath his eye representing a scar. Arthur looked up. "What was the character's name…Rupee? Something like that?"

"Luffy," Alfred whispered, barely suppressing a laugh.

"Right. Luffy." He smiled at his dopey-sounding error.

"Thank you, Arthur-san." Kiku bowed again. "I hope to see you later on this weekend."

"And you," Arthur said, he and Alfred waving as Kiku started to walk towards a chain of tables with a sign over it reading 'Weapons Check', leaving him and Alfred on their own again.

"So…" Arthur began.

"Yeah…I guess we're off to dealers now then," Alfred said. Arthur just nodded and started walking again. They were both trying to avoid talking about the one thing that was making both their heads spin with confusion.

Alfred was still sort of in shock. He was usually the first to take things in stride, to ignore the weirdness of whatever was going on. For example, the first time he and Arthur had kissed. He'd been stunned but had gotten over it in a few seconds. They had still managed to continue on as they always had. It was even easier to ignore the second time, and was barely noticeable the third. For some reason, this tiny brush of the lips was enough to make his blood run hot.

Arthur was even more confused, having considered himself straight as an arrow for a full seventeen years, and having known Alfred – _as a friend_ – for five. And it wasn't as if he hadn't been weirded out by his previous times kissing Alfred. It was just that every other time they had had an excuse…they had been…in character. About a hundred other thoughts on the matter tried to surface, but he pushed them back down, not wanting to deal with them until it was absolutely necessary. At that moment, it was not absolutely necessary. He opened his mouth.

"America."

Alfred didn't reply, so he decided to repeat himself. "America!" Still nothing. He took a breath. "Alfred."

Alfred turned around. He had obviously been zoning out. "Mmm?" he said.

Arthur took a breath. "I don't want this to be awkward," he started, resulting in no apparent reaction from Alfred, so he went on. "I know we have to talk about…this, and I'm sure you know it too. But for now…can we just…you know…?" Arthur struggled to put what he was thinking into words, hoping that Alfred would understand what he meant. "Just…at least keep talking?"

Alfred didn't react for a few seconds, then broke into a grin. "You like the sound of my voice?" he asked, raising an eyebrow mischievously.

Arthur felt the heat rising to his cheeks. "Wh…Hey! I just, um…w-"

"Cool it, buddy. I was kidding," Alfred interrupted him, ruffling his hair and winking.

Arthur just sighed. _Typical Alfred_. He may have looked annoyed, but in his mind, he was smiling.

TBC.


	14. The Animal Ears

Hey guys! Sorry this took so long…

Anyways, as always, feedback is appreciated and thanks for all your comments and suggestions!

One more thing: does anyone know how to do 'ride that mustang'? If so, please explain ^_^'

Thanks!

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Arthur yawned and grabbed Alfred's wrist, looking at his watch. 11:03, it read. He sighed.

"Christ, time moves slowly here…" he said.

Alfred nodded in agreement. "Yeah no kidding."

They were still on their way to the dealer's room, progressing slowly through the sea of con patrons, which, both of them noticed, was much bigger than Friday's crowd.

Alfred continued. "Not that it's a bad thing, though. It gives you way more time to just be here, be awesome and geek out and make friends and stuff."

"Very true." Arthur smiled. "I could get used to this."

Alfred raised his eyebrows and snickered. "Really?" he said, almost disbelievingly.

"Yes, actually…what makes you say that?"

Alfred paused to show the staff their badges, and they entered the crowded aisles of dealers. Even though he had now seen it once before, it was, to Arthur, still quite a sight to behold. _I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing so many excited people in such a confined space, though,_ he thought.

"Well, think about it," Alfred said, stopping in front of the nearest table and inspecting the little figurines. He smiled, formulating the sentence in his mind. "The peace-and-quiet-loving, gentlemanly Arthur Kirkland suddenly goes almost as insane as his nerdy, gay, hyperactive best friend. Sounds kinda like a drastic change, does it not?" He grinned at Arthur.

"Maybe," Arthur replied, moving along the table to look at a giant Hetalian poster-like thing. "But, apparently said best friend has more of an effect on Arthur than he thinks." He made eye contact with Alfred and grinned back.

Alfred laughed lightly. "'S your call," he said, lifting up the price tag of the Allied Forces wall scroll that Arthur had been looking at. It was relatively cheap – then again, according to Kiku, almost everything here was. "Hey, you think I should get this?" he asked.

Arthur shrugged. "Never ask me about matters pertaining to money," he said. "I guess if you still have enough cash for the rest of the weekend…"

"Dude. With a dad as loaded as mine…" Alfred started.

"Right, right, don't need to remind me." He turned his attention back to the poster, poking America's face with his index finger. "I still think you look like him," he said.

"I _AM_ him," he said simply, flagging the seller guy over.

Arthur rolled his eyes.

Alfred paid the guy and happily rolled up his wall scroll, continuing down the aisle.

"Hey, what were we here for again?" Alfred asked.

"Japan's Pocky, remember?"

"Oh yeah." Suddenly he stopped dead, Arthur crashing into his back.

"Can you not stop like that?" Arthur said, rubbing his abused nose. Alfred didn't answer. Arthur looked at him. He had an odd expression on his face, somewhere between extreme surprise and amusement. "What is it?" he asked.

"Oh my God," he said.

"…What is it?" he repeated.

"It's Berwald and Tino. Berwald's in _crossplay_. He's in freaking _crossplay_."

"In _what_?" Arthur asked. "And wait. Berwald and Tino, as in the Scandinavians who go to our school?"

"Yeah, them. In crossplay, which is cross-dressing cosplay. Look." He pointed.

Arthur followed Alfred's finger. When he realized what he was pointing at, he raised his eyebrows, and his mouth, in turn, dropped open.

The odd couple were walking slowly in their direction, looking at the dealers' tables as they walked by. It was strange, and rather surprising that they were there at all. But even more so was what they were wearing. Tino was Finland. That much was a given, considering how he acted and where he was from. Arthur couldn't quite place Berwald. He looked like Sweden…in fact he always did…except…wearing a mini-skirt, high heels and sporting long pigtails.

Arthur tried to burst out laughing and groan at the same time. A very peculiar sound resulted from that.

Alfred laughed. "Dude, you sound like…Russia trying to imitate a frog," he said, waving madly to get either Tino or Berwald's attention.

Finally Tino looked in his direction. But instead of waving hello, or smiling and bounding over like he usually did, he went completely pale and stopped moving, just as Alfred had done earlier. Berwald, distracted, bumped into him. The two pairs were now standing about 3 metres apart, almost mirror images of each other. Berwald shifted his eyes toward Tino and said something indistinguishable. Tino turned around and whispered something back. The taller man's gaze drifted to where Alfred and Arthur were standing. He immediately (and expressionlessly) started walking over to where they were, Tino trailing behind and blushing furiously.

"H-hi!" Alfred said, not quite recovered from his shock, and a bit intimidated by the tall Swede in front of him.

"Hey," Berwald said, not sounding friendly – or girly, for that matter – at all.

"Hello," Arthur added. He turned to the nervous Tino beside him, unsure of how to begin the conversation. "Er…I didn't know you guys knew Hetalia."

"Well…I didn't, actually," Tino began. "Ber-"

Berwald nudged him.

"S…Su-san…showed me it just yesterday in our hotel room." He looked away bashfully.

"Really?" Alfred jumped in. "I actually just showed it to Art- _England_ yesterday too. And then we bought the costumes."

"Where'd you get yours?" Arthur asked. America and England seemed like they'd be more popular characters, while Finland and whoever Berwald was supposed to be seemed more…out there.

"M'de th'm m'slef," Berwald said, almost mumbling.

"I see…" Alfred said, trying to be subtle while giving Berwald an approving once-over. "You're Fem!Sweden, right?"

He nodded.

Then they heard a rather loud rumbling noise. Berwald, Tino and Alfred turned to Arthur.

"That your stomach?" Alfred whispered, amused.

"Er…eheheh…" Arthur laughed uncomfortably. "The only thing I've eaten today was that Pocky…" he scratched the back of his head.

Alfred giggled. "Well, seems we gotta go get something to eat. But…we can catch you at the APH photoshoot later today, right?"

Berwald nodded again. "B'bye." He started to walk off, and Tino started to follow when Arthur lightly tapped his shoulder.

"By the way…why is…Berwald cosplaying a girl Sweden and not just Sweden?" he whispered, making sure Berwald was out of earshot.

Tino shrugged and blushed. "H-He insisted on it."

"Alright…" Arthur said, equally confused as he watched Tino speed-walking to catch up to his companion.

Arthur turned back to Alfred. "Photoshoot?" he asked.

"Yeah, you know, where like all the Hetalia cosplayers at the con come to that field at 4:00 today and take a crapload of pictures of each other. I read it in the con book thing yesterday." He paused to crack a smile. "Anyways. Crossplay. It is now in your vocabulary. Use it." He started to walk towards the nearest table that sold Pocky. "Or…better, I'd like to see you actually doing it." He smirked, turning around and not waiting for Arthur's reaction.

Arthur groaned and tried to shake out the mental image. "Really, America? You _want_ to see me in a miniskirt?"

"Why not? You'd be cute," he said, teasing.

"Shut up. No I wouldn't." He turned his attention to a sign on the dealer's table: "POCKY! 3 for 5$"

Alfred giggled and put his hand in mock sympathy on his friend's back. "Just keep tellin' yourself that, you'll be fine." He picked up the first two different-coloured boxes he saw.

Arthur swatted playfully at Alfred's arm, picking up a third box. Vanilla with almonds. He handed it to Alfred, who started looking at the other stuff at this particular dealer's tables, owned by a place called 'The Labyrinth'.

The American's eyes locked on to a stack of odd-looking hats. He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, biting his lip, as if trying to imagine something. Arthur followed his gaze and picked up the first hat on the pile. It was fuzzy and light blue with long rabbit ears. Instinctually, he reached up to put it on Alfred's head, being careful to avoid the gravity-defying tuft at the front.

Alfred barely missed a beat, folding his arms out in front of him and making his best cutesy-bunny face.

Arthur turned away and blushed slightly. "I-it suits you," he said, half-smiling, but still not making eye contact with his friend.

"Really?" said friend replied, pulling the hat off and examining it. "Cause I kinda like it. Well, I guess that makes sense…"

"How so?"

"I found out from some anime that the word for bunny in Japansese is _usa_. Usa. Like U.S.A. Coincidence? I think not." He smiled, seeming proud of this observation.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Of course only _you_ would think of that."

"No, tons of people thought of it!" He paused. "Remember that you Google-imaged 'Hetalia America and England' or something yesterday?" he asked, earning a flush from Arthur as he remembered the…er…nature of the illustrations.

"Yes?"

"Well, didn't ya notice that a whole ton of the pictures had America with rabbit ears? Trying to, you know, seduce England or something?"

Arthur squinted, trying to remember. A few particular images surfaced in his memory, and indeed, Alfred was right. There _had_ been an uncanny number of bunny-Americas.

"Apparently that odd seduction technique seems to work for him," Arthur said, raising his substantial eyebrows. "Though I don't see at all how."

A smile grew on Alfred's face. He put on the blue hat again, stepping closer to Arthur. "It's just-" he took Arthur's chin in one hand and tilted it upward softly. "-America's natural charm," he whispered, bringing his face closer to the other's. "Combined with the innocent cuteness of a bunny." He watched intently for Arthur's reaction.

Arthur was sure he was blushing furiously. Alfred was whispering to him, his eyes-half lidded and sandy blond hair falling in front of his face. He started moving so their noses were touching, and his index finger stroked the bottom of his chin. Arthur exhaled, shuddered. "Just try and tell me this isn't working," Alfred whispered again, smile still on his face. Arthur glanced sideways, where the lady selling stuff was watching them with a smirk.

"Alright!" he said, voice wavering. "Alright. It works. America is charming with rabbit ears."

Alfred pulled away slowly, staring intently at the Brit the whole time. Then he removed his hand from Arthur's chin and started laughing.

Arthur frowned, blushing. "What?" he said angrily.

"Your expression. So…" he paused, giggling and looking for the right word. "Submissive. You'd make a great uke." He laughed some more, removing the fuzzy hat that had started the whole thing.

"A great _what_? U.K.? That's who I am, no?"

This only provoked more laughs from Alfred. "No. Not U.K. Never mind, forget I said anything." He waved him off and turned to the Labyrinth lady. "How much?" he said, holding out the hat.

"35 or two for 50," she said.

Alfred's head swivelled to look at Arthur, who shrugged and looked away, still flustered from Alfred's…er…seduction.

Alfred searched the pile once again, choosing a fuzzy white hat with purple kitty ears. The lady nodded and Alfred paid, taking the hats, and turned to Arthur, who was holding his stomach uncomfortably.

"Hungry?" Alfred asked with a grin, tilting his head to one side. Arthur nodded. "Kay. Me too actually. Let's go get us some grub." He linked his arm in Arthur's and half-dragged him out of the dealer's room.

They walked wordlessly for a while, crossing the Artist's Alley and Crafter's Corner, waving hi to Luffy-Kiku as they passed.

After about five minutes of walking, when they had just managed to get out of the building, Alfred decided to break the silence. "Dude. Say something." He shook Arthur's arm, the one that was in his own.

"H-huh? Oh, sorry, what?"

"You've been oddly speechless since we left that hat place." He held up the plastic bag, as if to emphasize the point.

"Really?" He frowned. "I'm just tired, I guess."

"Hmm, I don't think that's the case," Alfred said, grinning. "I think someone's still in shellshock from America's awesome powers of seduction."

Arthur sighed, with a hint of a smile. "Now that's just his ego talking," he pointed out. _Besides. It's not _America_ that I'm concerned about…_ he blushed, subconsciously inching closer to Alfred.

"Well you ain't denying it."

"What?" Arthur swatted at the other's chin. "Well, now I am."

"Ouch," Alfred said mockingly. Then he spotted the Harvey's they had gone to the day before. "Yay food!" He started in the direction of the orange-coloured roof.

"Oi! Wait just one second!" He grabbed Alfred's hand, effectively restraining him.

Alfred stopped. _There it goes again…_ he thought, squeezing the other's hand. _B-dmp. B-dmp. B-dmp. B-dmp. B-dmp…_ "Why wait? You're hungry, no?"

"Yes, well unlike you, I can actually spot other food options when I'm hungry, instead of just making a beeline for the nearest place." He pointed to a sushi restaurant across the street. "When in Rome, do as the Romans do," he said, earning a snicker from Alfred, who was thinking of Rome in Hetalia. "Please, no more American food this weekend." He winced.

"Fine, fine, whatever you say." He rolled his eyes. "Plus. At the sushi place, I think we'll have more time to talk," he said, deliberately indicating their hands, fingers now intertwined.

Arthur sighed, expression turning serious. "You have a point," he said, looking straight into Alfred's eyes.

He nodded, their unspoken agreement acknowledged, and started to cross the street to the restaurant.

TBC.

More...

Top of Form


	15. The Japanese Food Pt 1

Hey guys! Sorry for yet another long wait ^_^''

Anyways, thanks to LittleEisenHowerCheesecake, cgal1120, GrassBlade-chan, and MimmiTheOtaku for explaining ride that mustang to me! Much appreciated.

And of course, to anyone who reviewed, thank you oh so very much, it keeps me writing.

'Specially to al888 and … () … (UNNAMED PERSON WHOSE REVIEW WAS AWESOME!)

Anyways. The show much go on.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The name of the place was Ginko Japanese. When the pair of them had walked close enough to actually see it clearly, they noticed a bit of a line of con-goers outside the door.

Arthur groaned. "More waiting…" he commented.

"We can deal with it," Alfred said.

"Normally our stances on this matter would be reversed," Arthur said, stomach growling again.

"It's a _con_, dude. Everything is reversed." He said this as if Arthur should have known it.

"And what do you mean by that?"

Alfred giggled. "Well, for one, normally you'd be doin' all the explaining instead of me…"

"Fair point…"

"And…on any other day this year, if a guy walked into that Starbucks-" he pointed to a Starbucks across the street "-with pink hair and fairy wings, he'd get stared at as if he were the strangest thing in the world. Now, this weekend, if a guy walked in with a suit and a briefcase, well, unless they were Sven from Black Cat or something, they'd be the one to get the weird looks."

Arthur nodded, wondering if Alfred was only this insightful when it came to anime and other things of this sort.

The small line they were in took a lazy step forward.

They stood in silence for a couple of minutes.

"So have you ever actually eaten here before?" Arthur asked after a while.

"Nope. Though I've been to enough Japanese restaurants with Kiku and my brother and stuff, and they're all pretty much the same," Alfred said, shrugging and yawning into his arm, the one that wasn't occupied with holding Arthur's hand.

"I'll take your word for it." Arthur replied. He frowned. "Wait a second, you have a _brother_?"

"Hmm? What? You didn't know that?"

Arthur shook his head. "Does he go to our school?"

"Uh…_yeah_…you know Matthew, right? Matthew Williams?"

"What? The quiet one that's always with that tall Dutch bloke?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"Why aren't your surnames the same?" Arthur asked, bewildered and confused, as they took a step into the restaurant.

Alfred shrugged. "Innh. It was our parents' idea. They didn't wanna use Williams-Jones, but my mom wanted someone to take after Williams, her last name, so they just split it like that."

Arthur bit back the urge to fix the other's use of English. "Alright. That's odd. Why have you never mentioned this?"

"I thought you knew…I guess he slipped my mind."

Arthur snickered and muttered something about Canada. Alfred turned to him and grinned, just as they were greeted by a young woman working at the restaurant.

"Konnichiwa, hello," she said. In one subtle glance she took in their clasped hands, costumes and them staring at each other. She smiled.

"Table for two," Alfred said.

The lady bowed. "Please follow me." Arthur observed that couldn't have been any older than nineteen or twenty.

She led them to a medium-sized table at the back, lit by a small, low hanging lamp. She placed two menus on the table, bowed and walked away.

Alfred and Arthur released each other's hands and sat on opposite ends of the table. The cushioned benches could have easily had three people on each side.

Arthur let out a sigh. "I can finally take off these bloody boots," he said, unzipping them as soon as he sat down.

"Too small?" Alfred said.

"Yea. By about an inch." He wiggled his squished toes.

"You wanna switch with me?" Alfred asked.

"Er…won't your feet be squished then?"

"Don't worry 'bout it, the hotel's like 5 feet away, I can live. Then I can switch into my other boots."

"Why did you bring another pair…no never mind. Forget I asked that. I'll take you up on that offer."

"That's what I thought." Alfred started unzipping his own boots as he picked up the menu and looked at it. "So whaddya want for lunch?"

"Dunno," Arthur replied, picking up his own menu. He really didn't care at this point, he was so hungry. He read out the first word he saw. Well, tried at least. "Ok- oko-momi-yoki? Ok-nomnom-iyaki? Whatever that says, how about that?" He grabbed Alfred's boots under the table and started to slide them on.

Alfred didn't say anything.

Arthur looked up to see him staring at him strangely, not for the first time that weekend. "What?"

"You're too damned cute," he said quietly, with a smile.

Arthur blushed and cleared his throat, intentionally holding the menu up to cover his face. "You know a guy doesn't quite enjoy being called 'cute', don't you?"

"Oh really?" Alfred pushed the menu down. "Let's test that."

Arthur shifted his eyes as the other leaned forward in his seat.

"You are absolutely the most adorable thing I have ever seen in my life," Alfred said, in all earnestness.

Arthur tried and failed to hide his double-take, the rising heat in his face and the quiet "u-uh…" that slipped out.

Alfred giggled and leaned back. "Another one of your statements proven false."

Arthur 'humph'-ed and covered his face with the menu once again. He mumbled something into the paper.

"Huh? Didn't catch that," Alfred said, still amused.

"I _said_, you didn't mean it, so it doesn't matter."

There was silence for a moment.

"I never said I didn't mean it…" Alfred said.

Arthur flashed a glance upwards. Was that hurt on his face? "It's rather hard for me to believe that you find me-" he cut himself off. "Well…_do_ you?" he said.

Now it was Alfred's turn to blush. "…Of course I do," he said quietly, staring at a picture on the wall beside him.

Arthur lowered the menu slowly. His eyes landed on Alfred's hand, sitting on their table. He slowly and awkwardly reached for it, as if some strange force were controlling his movements. "Well, er…like you said, we have to…t-talk…about this…" he stuttered, grabbing it and immediately looking in the opposite direction.

Alfred looked back at him and squeezed his hand in what was meant to be a reassuring way. "Yeah we do. But…" he trailed off, noticing the serving lady approach them. "While we wait for our food."

"Konnichiwa, are you ready to order?" she said, with a bit of an accent.

"Yeah, we are," Alfred said, before Arthur could open his mouth. "We'll have 2 miso soups, 2 garden salads, a dragon roll, a California roll, and…some okonomiyaki." He winked at Arthur.

She nodded. "Is that all?"

"Oh, and some salmon cakes too," Arthur added.

She nodded again. Arthur glanced at her name tag. 'Yuki', it read.

"By the way, how long will it take for the food to come?" Alfred asked.

"We are busy today, because of the convention," she said. "Twenty minutes, maybe?"

"Thank you," Alfred said, looking at his watch, and she walked away. He turned back to Arthur. "Salmon cakes?" he asked.

"Yes, salmon cakes. Kiku made them for Home Economics once. They were quite good."

Alfred snorted. "I find it funny that England is in Home Ec." He made one-handed air quotes around the word 'England'.

Arthur laughed with him. "I assure you, I'm not as bad a cook."

"Really? I find that hard to believe." Alfred grinned.

"You've never even tried my cooking."

"Well next time I'm at you're place you'll have to make me scones or something." ((Pronounced: scowns))

"Alright, I can do that. And it's _scones_ you idiot." ((Pronounced: scawns))

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Potayto, potahto."

"Git." Arthur's tone was joking. He gave the other a crooked smile, which was returned.

After a couple seconds they snapped out of it. "So anyways." Arthur cleared his throat. "I feel that this will be rather awkward but it needs to be done. _Talking_."

Alfred nodded. "Uh…well, um…where do we start?"

"Don't ask me, I've never done this before."

"Me neither."

Arthur sighed. "Then…er…from the beginning. When did…er, _this_-" he made a vague motion in the air between them "-start happening?"

Alfred bit his lip. "Yesterday?" he said in a small voice.

"Yesterday when?" He was pretty sure he knew, but…it was always good to get a second opinion…

"Yesterday…when I…I kissed you for that picture."

So they _were_ on the same page. Arthur nodded thoughtfully, aware of Alfred's hand still resting in his own. "I think you're right. Erm…" he scratched the back of his head to avert his eyes. "And…did you…l-like it?" he finished quietly, blushing.

Alfred was thoughtfully silent for a moment. "I did. And…all the other times too. I liked it."

Another awkward silence passed between them. Arthur was sure there would be plenty more.

"How 'bout you?" Alfred said. "Did you like it too?"

Arthur thought back to the first moment, which seemed like an eternity ago. "Honestly, I…I can't really remember."

"Oh. I see." Alfred's tone was unreadable.

"I reckon, well, seeing as I didn't run in the opposite direction on any of the…er…occasions, then…"

"Yeah."

"Alright. So…I feel quite odd having to admit this, but…I believe we've figured out as far as 'We like kissing each other'."

More silence.

Arthur set his forehead on the table. "Christ, that is the first time I've ever said anything like that to anyone."

"Arthur…" Alfred said, surprising him by using his out-of-character name. "I don't think very many people _ever_ have to say these things to each other."

"I'm sorry; I don't know how the bloody hell people do this. What _usually_ happens when best friends decide suddenly that just being best friends is not enough? When do they start snogging repeatedly in public places? I don't get it myself and I'm unfortunately a part of it. Good friends with bad benefits, that's what it seems like to me."

"That's not really what it means…"

"Oh really? What _does_ it mean then?"

Alfred sighed and looked the Brit in the eyes. "I'm pretty sure it means they're not best friends anymore."

The exterior noise of the restaurant was tuned out as Arthur processed what should have been quite blatantly obvious. The realization showed on his face.

"Dude. Don't tell me you never actually thought of that…"

Arthur shook his head. "I-I didn't think…I mean, I don't like…well, I thought I was s-straight..."

"In the five years that I've known you, you've never liked anyone. Girl or guy."

"So you're saying…I'm-"

"I'm not saying anything about you, Arthur. I'm just pointing out the fact. All I know…I mean, I've been doing quite a bit of thinking the past few hours…and…well, starting yesterday…" he swallowed and squeezed Arthur's hand hard. "I was gonna say…um, Arthur, I think I'm in love with you."

Arthur couldn't imagine what look he must have had on his face at the moment. Three parts confusion, two parts wonder, one part fear, one part joy, and five parts feelings he couldn't even begin to name.

Alfred released Arthur's hand and raised them both in the air. "Um, I mean…! You don't have to feel the same, I can live with that, or even, um…you don't even hafta say anything at all, we can just um…hopefully forget this ever happened, and I feel so stupid for saying it already that I don't even know what I'm going on about. Um. Yeah I know that yesterday I told you I love you like I tell you practically once a week, and you said something about it being odd, and I said not like that because at that point I didn't even know I felt like this about you and-"

"Alfred."

"-It's all very confusing, and some really weird stuff happened-"

"Shut up, Alfred."

Alfred continued his awkward babbling as Arthur stood up and walked around to the bench where Alfred was sitting, and took a seat beside him.

"-and then there was that thing with that Pocky and – mmph!"

Alfred wasn't quite sure what he was cut off by until about five seconds after it happened, when he felt the extra weight of Arthur on his lap, the pressure of Arthur's hands on the back of his head and the warm wetness of Arthur's tongue sliding overtop of his own. That put an end to almost all of his thoughts, except the ones telling him to wrap his arms around the slim Brit and move his mouth _immediately_. So that was what he did.

Arthur wasn't sure what the results of his actions would be, or if they'd be a good idea or a bad one. But he knew he'd done the right thing when they pulled away after what seemed like an eternity, gasping for air, and Arthur looked down to see Alfred smiling at him, with his mouth and sky blue eyes and arms holding him so gently that he couldn't help but to smile back.

"You alright?" Alfred asked, panting.

"Never been better. You?" he replied.

"Ditto." They laughed.

"We're in a restaurant, ya know. People are staring," Alfred said after they had caught their breath and Arthur had repositioned himself on his lap.

"If they don't like it, they don't have to look." He paused. "And if they do, let them take pictures." He grinned, bringing his face closer.

Alfred grinned back. "I love you," he breathed just before their lips collided once again.

TBC.


	16. The Japanese Food Pt 2

Ten minutes later, the pair was again sitting on either side of the table, watching amusedly as the two waitresses – the one who had greeted them and the one who took their orders – unsubtly argued over who would be the one to bring them their food, and whether or not they would do it immediately or wait and see if they decided to make out again.

Alfred laughed and shook his head. "Jeez, who knew we'd be such a fangirl attraction," he said.

"Yea, I know. These girls are shameless." Arthur rolled his eyes, recalling having been distracted by more than a couple camera flashes while he and Alfred were…er…giving their relationship a jump-start.

Arthur picked up a standing glass-covered menu and checked his reflection in it. He started fixing his hair, which Alfred had completely messed up. "By the way, please try _not_ to make me look like a pigsty in public. It takes a certain degree of talent to get my hair to look right."

Alfred shrugged. Personally, Alfred thought the Brit was attractive no matter what his hair looked like, what he was wearing, or how few hours of sleep he got. "Well, whaddya suggest I do? Keep my hands to myself?" He shook his head. "Don't wanna do that."

Arthur blushed. "At least watch where you're putting them."

"_I_ have to watch where I'm putting my hands?" Alfred asked incredulously, pointing at his ahoge.

Arthur turned even redder, remembering what had happened the last time he even just grazed it. "Right." He placed the makeshift mirror back on the table.

Alfred laughed. "Don't get me wrong, it feels good and all, but, you know…it can be awkward at the wrong time…"

"I know." Arthur cleared his throat.

Alfred's gaze drifted past him for a moment. "Oh look, here comes our food," he said. "It's the first waitress lady who's got it."

Arthur mockingly applauded.

"Now watch this," Alfred whispered as all that they ordered was set on the table. "Thank you," he said to the waitress. Mitsuki was her name.

"You're welcome." She bowed and started to walk away.

Alfred gestured to her, telling Arthur to watch. "Now, where were we?" he said, rather loudly. "Oh yeah, I was saying just how much I love you…"

Mitsuki did a little bit of a jump, and a small sound escaped her mouth. She started walking briskly into the kitchen area, eager to share with her jealous co-worker.

Alfred snorted and Arthur burst out laughing. They both nearly got their heads in the miso soup as a result. "Nice," Arthur said between laughs.

Alfred shook his head. "Yaoi fans, hmm? I think I'm gonna have fun with this."

Arthur waved his hand out invitingly. "By all means. I won't object."

(Ironically, Arthur saw right at that moment a cosplayer walk into the restaurant with a giant sign that said 'Objection!')

He raised his eyebrows and turned back to his food, stomach growling. Alfred's confession had made him momentarily forget about his hunger, but now it was back in full force. He picked up his chopsticks and reached for the salad, dropping one in the process.

"Bugger." He picked it up again, only to drop the other one. He sighed.

Alfred looked up from his own salad. "Dude…do you actually not know how to use chopsticks?"

Arthur frowned, trying again and failing. "Shut up. I don't do this as often as you."

"Here, like this." Alfred demonstrated with his own pair.

Arthur attempted to imitate it, only to have them fall yet again when he tried to grab something.

Alfred sighed. "Do I have to feed you?" He smirked.

Arthur glared at him. "I'll have the soup first," he said expressionlessly.

_Typical Arthur_. Alfred rolled his eyes and giggled, going back to his own food.

It took Arthur many a trial and error, as well as much clattering of chopsticks on the table, but Arthur finally managed to finish the salad, which, he thought, had probably the best dressing he had ever tasted. The miso soup was equally good. Alfred had swirled his own bowl around and around again in his hands, amused by the particles that always managed to drift to the bottom. Now, Arthur had cautiously started reaching for the sushi when Alfred swatted his hand away.

"I am _not_ gonna sit here watch you attempt that for another half-hour," he said. Then he added, "Not that I don't enjoy it, 'cause it's really cute, but there's a whole con over there still waiting for us to get back to it." He smiled.

Arthur pouted and blushed. "Fine. But I am getting better at this."

Alfred sighed, reached across the table and grabbed Arthur's jaw.

"Oi! I still don't want you to feed it to me tho-" His sentence was cut short by Alfred unexpectedly pressing their lips together. He was silent when Alfred pulled away a second or two later, leaving Arthur's mouth slightly ajar.

"Uh…a-alright…what was that for?" he asked.

"Well, because I wanted to, but also 'cause you're gonna let me do this." He picked up a piece of the dragon roll and waved it in front of Arthur.

"Alfred…" he groaned, but bit into the sushi – albeit reluctantly – nevertheless.

"There ya go, that wasn't so hard…"

Arthur glared.

"Alright, fine, have it your way." Alfred lifted his hands in defeat.

"Why don't you just, er, _help_ me?" Arthur asked.

Alfred frowned, confused. Then his eyes lit up. "Oh, you mean like holding your hand? Okay…"

_Gee, Alfred, you have a way of making things as blunt as possible_, Arthur thought. "Basically," he said, getting up and moving back to Alfred's side of the table to make it less awkward.

Alfred grinned, scooted over and put an arm around Arthur's waist. He wrapped his free hand around the other's, which had the chopsticks in a death grip.

"Don't hold them so tightly," he said. "Relax and like, imagine they're objects that are fragile and precious to you…or something…at least, that's how Kiku taught me…"

Arthur's grip loosened. "Really…fragile and precious to me…?" He smirked and glanced up at Alfred. "What, like you?"

Alfred's heart skipped a beat. _I'm precious to him?_ he thought, unable to keep himself from smiling.

"Uh…sure…" he paused. "Wait a sec, I'm not fragile!"

Arthur giggled. "Says the man who has a permanent cold during the winter."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Now move your fingers down lower." Arthur did as he was told, with Alfred's help. "And then ya go like this…" He carefully guided their hands to the sushi tray to grab something, then moving them to Arthur's mouth.

Arthur chewed, swallowed and looked up.

"Thank you," Arthur said. "Aren't you going to eat anything? You're the bottomless pit here…"

"You're more important." He grinned. If Arthur had the right to say sappy things, so did he.

Arthur wished he still had a menu to hide his intense blush. If there was one thing that he had learned since Friday – well, besides the fact that he had managed to fall for his former best friend in a matter of twenty-four hours – it was that Alfred _always_ meant what he said. He chewed thoughtfully, pondering this new discovery, when his eyes wandered to the entrance of the restaurant again. He swallowed the sushi.

"Look who it is," Arthur said, gesturing to the door.

Alfred turned around to see France and Prussia making a show of entering, along with Canada, Latvia and a new person cosplaying Iceland pretending not to know them.

"I guess they've just come back from the panel," he said. He looked at his watch.

"You want to call them over here?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah, but…" Alfred trailed off.

"But what?"

He scratched the back of his head, embarrassed. "But, you know, alone time…"

Oh. Well, there was that too. "Come on, we're in a crowded restaurant. One can hardly call that alone. Besides, we're going straight up to our room right after this. We'll be alone together in there."

Alfred raised his eyebrows at the implied meaning. He had read _way_ too much fanfiction to allow that comment to pass unnoticed.

Arthur facepalmed. "God. Sorry, Alfred. I did not mean it at all that way…"

"I know…it's okay…" Alfred silently willed the all-too-pleasant images out of his head. Though, again, he'd read so much USUK fanfiction that this was quite the difficult task.

Arthur waved in their friends' direction. Canada noticed first and tapped Prussia on the shoulder. Prussia got France's attention and she practically sprinted towards their table.

"_Âllo, les Anglais_. What is upwards?" she said. The others appeared behind her.

"Lunch, that's what. Wanna join?" Alfred said.

"Yeah, sure," Canada said. "We grabbed a burger after the panel. Surprised you didn't." She sat down, Latvia and Iceland following on the same side.

Alfred shot Arthur a look. "I'm surprised I didn't either." He grinned.

"I can assure you he would have regretted going if he had." Arthur said, poking him playfully with the chopsticks.

"Ohon, really?" France scooted next to Arthur. Prussia pulled up a stray chair.

"Actually, kinda. Yeah," Alfred said. "Oh, and if you're gonna sit there, keep your paws off Iggy." He pulled Arthur closer to him and made the 'I'm watching you' sign.

"_Merde_. My plans are ruined."

Arthur rolled his eyes. Alfred narrowed them.

Prussia tapped France lightly on the shoulder. "What?" she said.

"Look." Prussia pointed to the position of Alfred's arm, still wrapped around Arthur's waist.

France took a while to get the hint. "Um…wait…is this just another one of you guys' being 'friendly' moments?" She made air quotes around 'friendly'.

Arthur blushed and squirmed in Alfred's hold. He didn't reply, preferring to reach for another piece of sushi.

"Uhhh…" Alfred said, unsure of how to explain the unconventional events of the past few minutes.

"Guys are you stupid?" someone said from the other side of the table. Five heads swivelled to look at Iceland.

"Oh yeah, this is Iceland by the way. We met her at the panel." This was Canada speaking. She turned back to Iceland. "What were you saying?"

"I mean, you're pretty stupid if you can't see that they're like Romeo and Juliet here…Hi, by the way."

Alfred and Arthur offered their greeting, then listened, embarrassed, as everyone else spoke at the same time:

"I know, right? I mean, _mon Dieu_, they're telling us they're just friends…"

"You could cut the sexual tension with a knife…"

"But they're not actually 'in a relationship', as England told us."

Alfred cleared his throat. "Actually, um, we are…" but no one could hear him over everyone else's talking. He was about to try again, but Arthur had already yanked the collar of his bomber jacket down and started kissing him loudly.

He waited until the others had quieted down before pulling away, wiping Alfred's saliva from his chin. "Yea…" he said awkwardly, immediately regretting what he had just done now that he didn't know what to say.

"We actually are, now," Alfred said, just a little bit giddy.

The others exchanged glances. Prussia spoke up again. "So wait. We walk away to a panel about gayness for an hour, come back and suddenly you're boyfriends?"

Alfred leaned back in his seat. _Boyfriends…wow…_ he smiled subconsciously.

"I-I guess so…" Arthur said. He obviously hadn't thought of the term either.

Latvia gave a low, out-of-character whistle. "Cool." She nodded in approval.

France scratched her head. "But…something doesn't seem right for some reason…"

Prussia rolled his/her eyes. "You're a FrUK fangirl. Of _course_ it doesn't seem right."

France opened her mouth to debate, then closed it again. "I don't think that's it…cause these two are my exception to the FrUK rule…" she shrugged. "But whatever."

Arthur looked up. "Right!" he said, facing Alfred. "I forgot, you were supposed to explain to me what all these strange things mean."

"What, like FrUK?" he replied. "Isn't that like…kinda obvious?"

"No, it isn't…especially when you hear it pronounced different ways…you say fruck, she-" he pointed to France "-says froo-kay, and…um…you-" he pointed to Prussia "-say fruuk. It's rather confusing."

"Not really, it's based sort of on the psychology of the person," Canada said. "Oh and FrUK is the pairing of France and England."

"Ah." Arthur nodded then frowned. That didn't seem right to him.

Canada continued. "America probably says fruck because he hates it, and it sounds like fuck. I know Prussia says it fruuk out of indifferentness, and France says froo-kay because of the whole UK equals uke thing."

Everyone just stared at her. "Well when you say it like that…I guess it makes sense…" Alfred said.

Arthur nodded again. He whispered in Alfred's ear. "What's an uke?" he said.

Apparently he had said that a tad too loud. Prussia snorted. France burst out laughing. Canada rolled her eyes.

"_Well_," Prussia said. "I could go on and on about it, but basically, in yaoi, it's the guy who takes it."

"Takes what?" Arthur was confused.

"Englaaaannnnnddddd…" Alfred groaned and put his head on the table, being careful not to squish the two pieces of sushi that were left on the plate.

"You are _really_ new to all this, aren't you?" France said. She gestured to the American-British couple. "I wish you guys luck. And when Prussia says 'the guy who takes it', it means 'the guy who gets the dick up his ass'."

It took a while for it to sink in. When it did, Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, colour flooding his cheeks. He covered it with his hand. "Oi, thanks for that…"

"Mental images?" Iceland whispered.

"Yea." He shivered.

"You're the one who asked…" Canada pointed out.

Alfred blushed and decided that the opposite wall was suddenly very interesting.

"Anyways." France whacked the table, startling everyone. "I say you finish up here and we go back to spazzing at every Hetalia cosplayer we see. And there's gonna be a lot so I kinda wanna go now."

Alfred looked back. "Uh…actually we-" he gestured at himself and Arthur "-were gonna go up to our room for a bit."

France raised her eyebrows. "Really? …Already?"

Alfred sighed. "We need to get some stuff," he added.

"Ah. Je comprends maintenant."

Alfred swiped one of the two remaining pieces of sushi and ate it. "Yeah. I guess we can just meet you out by the Hetalian field in a mew minutes."

Canada shrugged. "Cool. Iceland and I will be there."

Arthur nodded, having recovered from his thousandth momentary lapse of embarrassment. He didn't bother using the chopsticks to pick up the last bit of food, preferring to shove it in his mouth with his fingers. "Right then. Let's go."

They all stood up, shuffling awkwardly off of the benches. Alfred approached Yuki (the second waitress lady) who was now at the cash register. He grinned, paid, and humoured her by pecking Arthur on the cheek before grabbing his hand and walking out of the restaurant with the rest of the group. Arthur giggled at the squealing sound she made.

Alfred stuck his tongue out guiltily as they stepped out to the sidewalk, releasing Arthur's hand and skipping forward to where France and Latvia were walking in front of him.

"So how was that panel, by the way?" he asked.

France didn't reply immediately. Instead she turned around to check that England wasn't watching. Then she turned back, pulled something out of her pocket, and handed it to Alfred. "Put that in your pocket _now_," she whispered, then added louder: "The panel was awesomeness, obviously."

Alfred frowned, feeling the edges of the little foil packet. His eyes widened. "What do I want this for?" he hissed at her.

"You're gonna need it. Trust me." She couldn't hide the trace of a snicker tugging at the corners of her lips. "And if not in like, 10 minutes; at the very latest you'll need it by the end of the day."

Alfred turned a bright red. He turned around to look at Arthur, who caught his glance and smiled. Alfred smiled then turned back. He shook his head. "W-We've only been like this for…not even an hour…"

"Oh, _croyez-moi_, it's been a lot longer than that. I have sort of a theory about that. But I'll tell you that later. Right now, you guys gotta get to it."

Alfred shook his head again. "I couldn't."

"But you want to, don't you?"

Alfred stayed silent.

"Then you've got nothing to lose." France winked before veering off to the left with the rest of the group, leaving a flustered Alfred and oblivious Arthur behind her.

TBC.


	17. The ?

**A/N:** Alright. I've noticed this sort of pattern in my comments and reviews, and I just want to say: IF YOU HAVEN'T YET BEEN TO A CONVENTION, DO IT ASAP. If you like this fic, and you like spazzing with people who are part of the same fandom as you, it is the most fun you will ever have in your life. It's just incredible.

A lot of people have also been asking me what convention this is based on. The answer: Anime North. 15-ish years old. Located in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. The line-ups move faster than almost every other convention of this size. It's run so efficiently. (I'm staff I should know :P) If you get the chance to come, even if you're from like, Britain or the US, just do it. It's so worth it. One drawback: they put on an attendance cap this year. 20,000 maximum per day, so if you want to come, pre-register! :)

Anyways, enough about the con, on to the fic. I'm sorry I'm so busy that I have barely any time to work on it…this is the best I can do. Around one per month. I might be able to get 2 out within the two weeks of Christmas holidays though… *crosses fingers*

Finally, thanks so much for your reviews everyone! You guys are just too nice :3 keep giving your awesome feedback!

Cheers, the show must go on!

**[NEW]: **Thanks so much to Kazukokitten for editing this chapter for me! You did a really great job, can't thank you enough~

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Alfred looked left and right as they walked through the hotel lobby, eyeing the cosplayers waiting outside the many multi-purpose rooms, he guessed, for panels or games or something. He made a mental note to come down and find out what was going on around here… After he and Arthur finished…

Alfred blushed, not wanting to complete the train of thought. His heart was already pounding a mile a minute as it was, and Arthur was still walking, calm and oblivious behind him.

It was true that the idea of…er…doing _those things_…with Arthur wasn't exactly unappealing to him. Quite the opposite, in fact. The question wasn't about him, though. Who knew how Arthur would react? How he'd feel? His glance shifted sideways to observe the Brit's features. He seemed contented, his eyes relaxed, lips curled slightly upwards, and hands in the pockets of his military-style pants. It was something Alfred didn't really want to disturb…but…

He sighed into his hand, which he then ran through his hair. _This is ridiculous. France is being ridiculous. I'm not ready for this, let alone Arthur_, he thought.

They stepped into the elevator. Arthur exhaled, crouched down and smiled up at Alfred, who grinned back, closed his eyes and waited out the silence.

o-o-o-o-o

Arthur slid their room key through the lock and pushed the door open, watching as Alfred nearly tripped inside, and frowned. Alfred had seemed rather disoriented since they'd left the restaurant ten minutes ago. Peculiar.

He watched as Alfred shrugged off his costume jacket, flung it haphazardly onto a chair and took a shaking breath.

Arthur took a timid step forward, unsure of what to say. "…Alfred?" he queried.

Alfred jumped. He turned around slowly. "Y-Yeah?"

"Are you alright?"

"Uh…yeah. Perfectly fine."

_Yeah, right_. Arthur sighed and walked over to him. He softly put a hand on Alfred's cheek. "Are you sure, love?"

Alfred blushed, smiled, and leaned into Arthur's hand. "Love…" he repeated in a tiny voice.

Arthur smiled back. "Yeah."

They both remained frozen in place for a few moments, letting the comfortable silence run its course.

Alfred stiffened, remembering his dilemma. He looked down at Arthur, trying to read his thoughts through his bright green eyes. Arthur held his gaze questioningly, unknowingly. An unnamed sensation drifted through his body, starting at his chest and pulsing out to his fingertips, where it stayed. His breath hitched in his throat.

Then, in a split second, as if possessed by a common force, their bodies slammed together. They pressed against one another, lip to lip, chest to chest, legs to legs, and especially groin to groin as they tripped over each other's toes until Arthur was pushed against the wall.

Alfred's previous worries simply dissipated into the air around them as he felt the other's hands travelling everywhere, anywhere they could reach. He panted huskily into his mouth and massaged the other's tongue with his own. With his free hand he reached for the other's tie, pulling it loose in one fluid motion. Arthur shuddered against him. "Hmmn…" The smaller moaned into Alfred's lips.

Alfred could feel himself already getting hard. Arthur was making unbelievably hot sounds that he'd never heard from him before. Ever. One of the Brit's hands scrabbled desperately at the buttons of Al's shirt, the other at his belt. Alfred moaned and leaned into this touch, wanting it. What they were doing felt natural, normal. There was no way to be ready for it, to prepare for it. There was no thought involved, purely passion and desire.

The fabric between them fell to the ground and they broke apart momentarily, holding eye contact as if wordlessly asking for consent from the other. Arthur swallowed and nodded. He was trembling.

Arthur's gaze shifted down to Alfred's now-exposed chest, staring in wonder as though he were seeing it for the first time. He reached out timidly and let his fingers graze the hard, chiselled muscle. Alfred closed his eyes, feeling each contact of fingers to his skin like tiny sparks of electricity. "Arthur…" he whispered.

Alfred put a hand on Arthur's waist and pulled him close, letting him feel how turned on the other was making him. Alfred heard the other's sharp gasp and felt him twitch against his thigh.

His pants were getting uncomfortably tight. Alfred shifted his hand between them and fumbled blindly for his fly. He heard the foil packet of the condom crackle as he let the loose pants fall to the ground. He quickly did the same with Arthur's pants, looking down. Arthur's boxers were tented; the Brit was every bit as hard as he was.

Al had to see him. He looped two fingers into the elastic and yanked the boxers off, sinking slowly to his knees. Arthur gasped as his cock bounced free, shocked at the cool air. Alfred made a growling sound in the back of his throat, and he couldn't help but stare. Arthur's member was a deep red, and longer than his by about an inch. He lifted his hand and stroked the length with a single finger.

Arthur moaned from the sensation, unused to Alfred's large, warm hands on his body. He looked down to see Alfred grinning and moving his face closer to his hard-on.

Alfred closed his mouth around the other's long, hot manhood and heard the other's breathing hitch. He closed his hand around the base and slowly brought more of it into his mouth.

"Ahh…Christ, Alfred… _More_…"

Alfred grinned around his cock and complied, sliding his tongue against his shaft and sucking on the head teasingly, running his hand along what he was saving to later cram down his throat. Arthur was moaning in pleasure throughout the gestures. After a moment of sucking, Al let his tongue push into Arthur's slit, where he tasted something salty-sweet. Arthur gasped as the American licked the area. The taste of pre-cum was something new to Al. New, but not unpleasant.

Arthur was trying desperately not to buck his hips into Alfred's mouth, afraid of choking him. He could feel himself close to coming, really close. He'd never experienced anything but his own hand before, and with the way Alfred was treating him at the moment, he wouldn't last much longer either. He felt Alfred's other hand running along the inside of his thigh as he continued the licking and suckling. Arthur's moans turned into mewls and whines.

"Ahh…Nnn…A-Al..." he panted heavily.

Alfred hummed contentedly, taking Arthur all the way into his mouth. The wonderful sensation of being deep throated by the American was too much for Arthur. He barely had a chance to warn him before he came.

"A-Alfred! I'm going to-!"

Alfred quickly pulled back, just in time and far enough so the other's seed sprayed across his tongue.

With a sigh, Arthur collapsed to the ground in front of the American, closing his eyes momentarily in wait of his breathing to return to normal.

Alfred wiped his mouth with the back of his hand after swallowing. "That…was hot," he panted, attempting to catch his breath as well.

"Literally…or otherwise?" Arthur asked, for lack of something better to say. Awkward response to an awkward statement.

Alfred laughed softly after a moment. "...Both."

Arthur opened his eyes slowly and looked to the other. His gaze moved carefully but steadily downs the other's body until it reached Alfred's boxers, still on. He frowned, momentarily confused. Alfred had been hard as a rock earlier, but now he… Wait. Taking a closer look, Arthur noticed there was a wet stain on the fabric. A blush rose to Arthur's cheeks from the realization that Alfred had come in his boxers, merely from blowing him.

Alfred nodded when Arthur glanced up with an odd look in his eyes. "...Yeah." Was all the American had to offer.

Arthur laughed in disbelief. "I really hope this... Incident…won't make things awkward…" he spoke hopefully.

"..Yeah," Alfred repeated. He was still in a state of shock, thinking _I can't believe I just did that with _him_…_ He shook off the thought. "Um, yeah. I mean, it won't be." He then smiled.

"Right." Arthur returned the smile, then stood up shakily. "I'm going to put some clothes on, though. Er…if that's…alright by you…?"

They were both silent for a moment, letting that last question drift through the air and settle. Then they both burst out laughing at how ridiculous it was. Alfred shook his head and stood up. "If it's alright by me…" he muttered, shaking his head. He laughed again. "I think I'll go get changed too, actually."

Arthur nodded and started collecting the parts of his costume, strewn across various parts of the floor. Alfred rummaged through his suitcase for a clean pair of boxers. Arthur went to change and clean up in the bathroom. Alfred stayed outside. For some reason, now that he was no longer in the moment, he was shy about being completely naked in front of the Brit.

And because they weren't in the same room, neither was aware of the stupid smile plastered across the other's face for the next little while.

o-o-o-o-o

About five minutes later, Arthur heard Al burst into a fit of laughter from outside the washroom. He poked his head out and looked at Alfred, doubled over in his amusement. "What is it?" he asked the other.

Alfred looked at him, chuckling. "I can't remember why we came up here in the first place," he said.

TBC.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**A/N: **…Okay. So not full-on sex yet. I promise you that will happen later.


	18. The Going Crazy with a Camera

You know…I don't even think I'm going to start to explain why I'm 500 months late. Except to say it had nothing to do with me being lazy. Sorry about it though.

Well: total number of chapters for this fic is now confirmed. It's gonna be 25. :) 18 down, 7 to go!

This chapter feels really choppy to me…because I wrote like a few lines per month cause that's all I had time for and my writing style may or may not have changed in that time. Just let me know or something…?

(And you may or may not have ANY IDEA what it's like to be writing one fic when you've got another completely different one swimming constantly around in your head…let me just say it's not easy. I need a cure. -_-)

**April 2, 2012: 53 days to Anime North**

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"A-ha!" Arthur exclaimed, triumphantly pulling out Alfred's blue digital camera from under the cushion on the chair. He turned around. "Found it!" he said in Alfred's direction.

Once the pair had finally remembered why they had come up to their room (Change Alfred's boots, find con guidebook thing, get camera), they discovered they had to endure a rather trying search for the objects. The boots they'd found behind the ironing board in the closet, and the con guidebook had been seemingly cleverly hidden underneath the doujinshi on the bedside table. 10 minutes later, Arthur had removed the camera from its inexplicable location.

Alfred poked his head up from beneath the bed. "Where was it?" he asked.

"Under this pillow which was under your bomber jacket," he replied.

Alfred stood up and frowned. "The fuck was it doing there?" he wondered out loud, for the third time since they'd started searching (once for each object).

Arthur shrugged. "It's your stuff." Alfred had always had a very odd quirk of putting things in the last place they could possibly be looked for, then forgetting where he'd put them.

He handed Alfred the camera and checked his pockets to make sure he had everything he needed, including the stockpile of Pocky they had bought earlier. "Right then. Time check?" he asked.

Alfred grabbed the jacket off the chair and looked at his watch. "It's nearly 1 now. Jeez. We've still got like, more than 8 hours before we get back here for the night."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "A convention runs for that long?"

"Well the dealer's room and the artist alley and stuff like that close at-" he checked the con book "-9 pm. Then there's all these later events happening that sound really epic so I wanna go check them out."

"I presume I have to come too, then."

"Yup." He smiled. "It's our first con, Artie. We gotta enjoy it as much as we can."

"That's what we've been doing for the past 24 hours, is it not?" he cocked his head and gave the other an all-knowing grin.

The grin was returned. "Of course."

"Shall we?" Arthur asked, extending his arm to the American.

Alfred took his hand and nodded. "Let's go USUK the hell out of those people. And then take lots and lots of pictures. Make a bunch more friends, see a crap ton more awesome cosplayers, and wave if we happen to meet up with more people from school."

Arthur rolled his eyes playfully. "Whatever you say."

"…Maybe I'll manage to get those freaking hot sounds you were making 20 minutes ago out of my head, too."

"Alfred!" Arthur blushed furiously and swatted at his arm, at which Alfred merely laughed. Arthur continued trying to hit him.

"Okay, okay. Couldn't resist." He lifted an arm to defend himself.

Arthur scowled and stomped out of the room, a still-giggling Alfred in tow. Arthur faced away from him. There was a hint of a smile under the scowl that he couldn't manage to hide.

"We did say we'd meet back up with Canada and Iceland or something, right?" Alfred asked when they were out of the building.

"_You_ probably said something like that, yes." Arthur wiped the sweat from his forehead. One step outside the air-conditioned haven of the hotel and he was dripping.

"Can that wait? I wanna have a chance to go crazy with my camera now that we have it," Alfred said, holding up the device in question.

Arthur shrugged and smiled. "It's your choice, love."

Alfred turned to him. "Is that a British thing?"

"Is what a British thing?"

"Calling people 'love'. It's British, isn't it?"

"Oh, that." Arthur frowned. "I don't really know, actually. I guess so." He paused. "Why?"

"No reason…just that I…I like it." Alfred blushed.

Arthur smiled. "Oh really? I'd better use that to my advantage then…love."

Alfred elbowed him playfully. "And we suddenly discover that in secret, the self-proclaimed 'gentleman', England, is actually a shameless flirt."

"Bollocks! No one was supposed to know that." Arthur said, laughing.

"But no one really thinks it's a bad thing. Especially not America." Alfred stuck out his tongue. "Anyway. Let's go look for photoshoots or something." He started to walk, tugging Arthur's arm to make him follow.

"Alright, alright," Arthur said, still half-grinning.

They found a photoshoot in less than five minutes. Well, 'found' probably was not the right way to put it. 'Got trampled by' was closer to the truth.

"Bloody hell. Who are these people and how many of them _are_ there?" Arthur said, narrowly avoiding being hit by a wheelchair.

Alfred steered himself and Arthur out of the way of about ten identical characters standing in the middle of the path, all with short blond hair and aviators. "I've heard about this series, but I haven't actually looked at it yet. Bunch of otaku buddies are totally obsessed, though. It's called Homestuck."

"Ah." Alfred's response hadn't really gotten rid of his confusion. "Would you possibly be able to tell me why nearly all of their faces are painted white?"

"Not really…other than the fact that they're trolls…but not _that_ kind of troll…"

Arthur sighed. He wondered if Alfred forgot that he didn't know a bloody thing about 'otaku' life. Well, that was certainly helpful. "What kind of troll is _that_ kind of troll?"

"Oh right. Forgot you didn't know." Alfred grinned sheepishly. Arthur rolled his eyes. "That kind of troll is basically a person that…um…how do I put it…is one of the assholes of the fandom world. They just diss everything. The personifications of negativity."

"I didn't even know words that long were in your vocabulary," Arthur muttered under his breath, then said louder, "I see."

"Hey, dude, I heard that, you know." Alfred smiled and nudged the other with his shoulder. "I can speak properly when I want to."

"Which is…never." Arthur returned the smile.

"Mmm…yeah. That sounds about right." He pulled Arthur onto the grass, where the Homestuck cosplayers were somehow managed to organize themselves into a sort of semicircle around a smaller group of them in the middle. Alfred sidled into the semicircle, Arthur in tow, before pulling out the camera and taking a couple quick photos of the group.

Amongst the mixed mumbling and shouting Arthur managed to make out someone's exclamation of "BUCKETS!" which made a whole bunch of people laugh hysterically. Arthur frowned in confusion.

Alfred shrugged. "I guess it makes just as much sense to other people when we Hetalia people shout 'PASTA!' or 'VODKA!' or 'oh-hon-hon-hon-hon'…"

Arthur giggled at Alfred's France imitation. "Quite true."

Alfred looked down with a smile and slung an arm around Arthur's shoulders. "Hmm. So. Where around this con have we not been to yet?" Alfred said.

"How should I know?" Arthur said, leaning into the other's side.

Alfred shrugged. "No idea. Anyways. Hold on." He pulled away for a moment to run after somebody wearing a ridiculous (and slightly scary) costume that looked like an 8-foot tall black bed sheet with a face. Arthur watched as Alfred ran in front to get its attention and said "No Face" then something inaudible. The No Face proceeded to stop moving and let Alfred take its picture. Alfred thanked it and turned back towards where Arthur was.

Sensing Arthur's question, Alfred spoke. "Have you seen the movie _Spirited Away_?"

Arthur shook his head.

Alfred frowned. "_My Neighbour Totoro_?"

He shook his head again.

"Have you heard of Studio Ghibli or Hayao Miyazaki?"

"Probably," he said, shrugging, "but I don't remember it."

Alfred sighed. "You, England, are in need of a proper education." He put his arm back around the other's shoulders and kept walking.

Arthur just rolled his eyes.

o-o-o-o-o

After doing several laps of the entire building, Alfred running off every two seconds to take a picture of a person or a group or a photoshoot of some kind, the two of them stopped in a less-busy area and sat on a patch of grass.

They stayed there in silence for a few minutes, observing the passer-bys. At one point a group of what appeared to be giant stuffed animals walked by. Alfred took their picture. "Pokémon," he explained. "The greatest thing that Japan has ever created."

"I'm not stupid, you know…" Arthur said, being hit by childhood memories of the red and blue lights flashing across the telly, accompanied by a song about being the very best like no one ever was. "I remember Pokémon, with Ash and Pikachu and all that."

Alfred smiled. "But you've never seen anyone as crazy about it as the otakus...trust me."

"I can imagine." Arthur yawned.

Alfred flopped down on his back, blocking the sun with his hand. "This heat is _killing_ me," he groaned.

Arthur lay down beside him and let out an exhausted breath. "I did say earlier not to complain but…I know what you mean."

Alfred rolled his head lazily towards him. "Are you having fun at least?" he asked.

Arthur closed his eyes and smiled. "Yes," he said simply.

"Good." Alfred shifted back, the corners of his mouth twisting upwards.

Arthur felt himself starting to drift off. The sun, the constant walking, the general hyper feel of the convention, and the…er…previous events of the day were all taking their toll on him. He was about to fall asleep too when-

Flash!

Arthur groaned. He opened his eyes to see Alfred putting away his camera. He sighed in relief. "You scared me," he said. "I thought you were another mob of those fangirls."

Alfred just laughed. "Well it's not beyond them," he said.

"Could we possibly get somewhere out of their camera range before we're molested in our sleep? Don't get me wrong, I don't mind the…er…attention, but…" Arthur trailed off.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Um…here." He stood and offered his hand to Arthur, who took it and dragged himself up tiredly. "I noticed this area behind the parking lot-" he gestured towards it "-where there's a bunch of trees and grass and it's pretty empty…"

"Definitely." _Trees = shade = sleep_, Arthur thought. He was tired enough to doze off while standing up.

They headed over to the area, picking what looked like a cherry blossom tree and lying under it. Alfred looked up through the leaves. The sunlight that slipped between them dappled his and Arthur's faces. He reached his hand up, attempting to grab at the rays.

Arthur laughed.

"What is it?" Alfred asked, observing the patterns on his fingers.

"This feels like every single book and movie cliché that's ever been invented," he said. When Alfred stayed silent he continued. "Think about it. Here we are, lying on grass on a beautiful day, staring at the sunlight. And we're at a convention for Japanese animation under a _cherry blossom_ tree. It's a bit like a bad romance novel."

Alfred giggled at that, murmuring something about Arthur having actually read bad romance novels. "I see what you mean. But romance novels with clichés are the best kind!

"Really, now," Arthur said sceptically. "If this was a romance story, would you read it? With all its ridiculously sappy, clichéd moments?"

"Of course," he said. "Clichés are clichés because when they happen, the feelings that they give people are the most amazing feelings in the world."

"Alright…?"

Alfred sighed. Arthur was not a romantic in the slightest, so he had to do double duty. "Well, I dunno about you, but I've never felt this good in my entire life," he said.

Arthur blushed. "True enough," he said quietly.

Alfred stayed silent, a triumphant smile on his face.

"Alfred?" Arthur said.

"Yeah?"

"You won't ever stop being a walking cheeseball, will you?"

"Is it a bad thing?" Alfred grinned sheepishly.

"Well, no."

"Then why would I stop?" Alfred asked. He rolled over and kissed Arthur lightly on the lips. "I love you."

Arthur smiled at him, bumping their noses together. "Cliché." He closed his eyes.

Alfred smiled back and stroked Arthur's cheek with his thumb. "Go to sleep, Arthur," he said.

So he did.

TBC.


End file.
